


Merry, Happy, Joyful

by ellembee



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Christmas, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2015-05-27
Packaged: 2018-03-02 18:51:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 20,547
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2822498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellembee/pseuds/ellembee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Peeta is having a terrible holiday season, and Finnick’s attempts to cheer him up (and get him drunk) the day before Christmas Eve aren’t helping. When a beautiful girl walks into the bar, Peeta thinks things might finally be looking up. Too bad it’s only going to get worse. Modern AU.</p><p>Written for the Prompts in Panem Holiday Challenge 2014</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. December 23

As Peeta downed the rest of his drink, the first notes of Mariah Carey’s “All I Want for Christmas is You” filled the air. He groaned and looked over his shoulder. A group of college students huddled around the digital jukebox, pumping in dollar after dollar. Great. They'd be stuck with Christmas songs until last call.

It was bad enough that the place was decorated top to bottom for the holidays. Strings of white lights lined the bar top, mistletoe hung from every entryway, and a Christmas tree was tucked into a back corner. Annie, the owner’s daughter, had collected empty miniature bottles of liquor and turned them into ornaments. A beer stein served as the angel.

Christmas had always been Peeta’s favorite holiday, but this year everything was going wrong, and he wasn’t in the mood. He’d just as soon skip the entire holiday season. He’d be home in bed right now if Finnick hadn’t kept texting him every five minutes with sad face and Santa hat emojis.

“‘Tis the season,” Finnick said before launching into a very passionate lip-syncing performance. He pointed at Peeta and blew him a kiss as the chorus played.

“Please don’t.”

“But all I want for Christmas is you.” At Peeta’s blank stare, Finnick gave up. “Okay, a joke instead. What’s the difference between snowmen and snowwomen?

“Snowballs?”

Finnick curled his lip in disgust. “You ruined it. You took the punch line.”

“That one was kind of obvious.” Peeta pushed his glass forward. “Can I get another?”

Finnick let out an exaggerated sigh before grabbing the empty glass. While Peeta was the only one sitting in front of the bar, the rest of the place was busy for a Wednesday night, although considering it was the day before Christmas Eve, it was hardly a surprise. College students had been arriving in droves the past week as schools let out for break, and the majority of the older crowd didn’t have work the next morning.

After getting a pink slip back in June, Peeta woke up most mornings before dawn to work part-time at his family’s bakery. His father had generously given him tomorrow off as it was a half-day and nearly all the special orders had been completed.

Peeta would have preferred going to work. At least it was a distraction from how utterly useless he felt.

Finnick set down a fresh drink. After taking a sip, Peeta grimaced. “Um, did you forget to add something?”

“Like what?”

“Like the Coke?”

“That’s insulting. I’ve been bartending for five years, and you think I don’t know how to make a basic Rum and Coke?”

Peeta just stared.

“I added Coke. I added a dollop of Coke.”

“Can you maybe add a few more 'dollops'?” Peeta asked, making air quotes to emphasize Finnick’s ridiculousness.

“Fine, but you’re missing the entire point of this evening.”

“Which is?”

“To get drunk and have fun! It’s the end of the year. It’s time for a new beginning!”

Peeta shook his head. He had been on twelve interviews at twelve high schools since June and had received exactly zero offers. The job market was tough, and the competition was fierce. It didn’t look like something new would be beginning anytime soon. If he was lucky, maybe he’d get another tutoring job.

“We’ve got another week before New Year’s. Let’s get through Christmas first,” Peeta said.

“Fine.” Finnick sprayed a quick burst of Coke into the glass. When Peeta’s frown remained, Finnick rolled his eyes and filled the cup to the brim. “Here’s your watered down fun killer."

Peeta took a sip and gave his friend a thumbs up.

"Okay, I’ve got another one.”

Peeta had only been here an hour, but Finnick was already on his sixth holiday-themed joke. While the jokes were lame, Peeta appreciated the amount of effort Finnick was putting into the pointless task of cheering him up.

“What do all the female reindeer do while Santa is busy working with the males on Christmas Eve?” Finnick asked.

“I don’t know. What?”

“Go into town and blow a couple bucks.”

Peeta couldn’t help the burst of laughter that escaped him. Finnick was right. Sort of. Not about female reindeer, but about having fun. Tomorrow was going to suck, and the day after too, but tonight didn't have to. And maybe the new year really would usher in a new beginning.

Or maybe that was just the rum talking.

“Okay, one more,” Finnick said, wiggling his eyebrows. “Why doesn’t Santa have any kids?”

Peeta rolled his eyes. “Because he only comes once a—” He cut himself off as a gorgeous brunette approached the bar. 

“Because he only comes once a year,” she said.

At Peeta’s horrified look, she continued, “It’s okay. I’ve heard my share of dirty Christmas jokes.”

“And it’s down a chimney,” Finnick added.

Heat crept up the back of Peeta’s neck as he glared at Finnick. It was definitely much hotter than it had been a moment ago, and he was pretty sure his cheeks were the same color as Santa’s suit.

“What?” Finnick demanded. “He only comes once a year and it’s down a chimney. She didn’t finish the joke.” Finnick turned to the woman. “What can I get you?”

“Long Island Iced Tea.”

Peeta swiveled on top of his barstool to face her. Snowflakes dotted her dark braid, but they were already melting in the warmth of the bar. A few droplets slid from her hairline down the side of her face. He had the strangest urge to reach out and wipe them away.

Thankfully, she did it herself, saving him from some extreme embarrassment. 

“Sorry about that,” Peeta said. “My friend loves Christmas and dirty jokes. He can’t help but combine them.”

“Your friend? You’re friends with the bartender?”

“Not in the ‘I’m here every night because I’m sad and lonely and have a drinking problem’ way. More in the ‘we were college roommates and still hang out all the time’ way.”

She nodded. “Got it.”

“Here you go,” Finnick said. “Eight dollars.”

“Can I buy you your drink?” Peeta asked.

She narrowed her eyes. “Why?"

“Uh…" It had been forever since he had hit on a woman, but he remembered it being much easier in college. He rarely faced rejection, and he had never dealt with outright suspicion. "To be nice?”

“No, guys buy girls drinks because they think it’ll obligate us to talk to them and maybe sleep with them. You’re already talking to me. I’m not going to sleep with you. There’s no need.” She pulled out her wallet.

“Um, okay," Peeta said, a little annoyed at her reaction. It's not like he was expecting sex just because he purchased her a drink. Eight dollars plus tip seemed like an uneven trade for something like that. 

Also, he wasn't an asshole, but maybe that wasn’t as obvious as he hoped. He had been delivering the punch line to a raunchy joke as she walked up.

She handed her credit card to Finnick. He disappeared to the other end of the bar where the cash register was located.

"Are you here with someone?” Peeta asked.

“My roommate, Johanna," she said, tilting her head to indicate a woman with choppy black hair streaked with red. Johanna was currently sitting on some guy's lap, her tongue down his throat.

“Is that her boyfriend?”

The brunette rolled her eyes. “Nope, that’s actually a new record. We’ve been here less than five minutes." She took a generous sip of her drink. "I guess the answer is no, I’m not here with anyone.”

“If we don't count Finnick, and I don't because he's working, then I'm here alone too. And we've already established that I'm not allowed to buy you a drink or sleep with you. Now that the awkward stuff is out of the way, do you want to take a seat?”

Her mouth twisted into something resembling a smile as she stared down into her drink.

"Katniss," she said.

"What's that?"

"My name. Katniss."

She held out her hand. He grasped it, surprised at the sudden spark that shot up his arm.

Nope, tonight did not have to suck. At all.

"Peeta," he said, shaking her hand.

“Does your friend know any more jokes?” she asked, sitting on the adjacent barstool. 

“Please don’t encourage him.”

***

Several drinks—and _eight_ “All I Want for Christmas is You”’s—later, Finnick coerced the pair into trying a couple of Santa Shots. They were red and green and tasted like candy canes, and before Peeta knew it, he and Katniss had each downed three.

“Finnick, I know this is your job and all, but I think we need to slow it down,” Peeta suggested. “Unless you want me to spread my holiday cheer all over the bar.”

Katniss, cheeks flushed, her coat and scarf ditched long ago, peeled off her sweater.

“Having trouble keeping up?” she asked, adding her sweater to the pile accumulating on the nearest stool.

“Yes,” Peeta said, one hundred percent not checking her out. He was very proud of himself for maintaining eye contact. “I am not ashamed to admit a girl can outdrink me, even if it’s a tiny girl like yourself.”

“Tiny?” Katniss echoed.

“Um, petite? Diminutive? Miniature?” His eyes wandered from the green bra strap peeking out to the silver chain that disappeared behind her tight black tank top. Some kind of magnetic force yanked his gaze down lower to her breasts where he lingered a few seconds too long.

Was he being obvious? He was being obvious. His reaction time was slowed way down. He refocused on her face, but then he started thinking about her lips and how soft they looked.

“You know a lot of synonyms, but not one of them is flattering,” Katniss said. “And I’m 5’5”. That’s average.”

“Sorry. It’s the English teacher in me. Drunk English teacher, actually.”

Katniss smiled, but she didn’t laugh. While she had a beautiful smile, he had been unable to make her laugh all night. It was high on his to-do list, just under kissing her, although he doubted that would happen. Especially after her roommate had stopped over.

Johanna had left with her “new friend” a couple of hours earlier, but before disappearing, she had stopped at the bar to say goodbye and give advice: “Try to have some fun, Brainless. Blondie here looks like he’d be good in the sack.”

Several seconds had passed before Peeta realized that the blonde in question was him and not the Thor-lookalike that had followed Johanna out the door.

Katniss had blushed, Peeta had sputtered, and Finnick had told another joke to alleviate the tension.

Thank god for Finnick. Mostly. Peeta was getting much drunker than he had intended, and it was completely Finnick’s fault. Peeta knew he would not only have one hell of a headache in the morning but quite an expensive tab. He was trying to be careful with his money, especially after purchasing gifts for his family, but he was certain he had drunk half of his most recent paycheck.

“English teacher?” Katniss asked. “What grade?”

“No grade as of right now. Lost my job after budget cuts. Last one hired, first one fired.”

“That’s awful. I’m sorry.”

“I’m tutoring and substituting here and there. I’ll find something new soon,” he said, regretting mentioning it at all. The past couple of hours had flown by in easy conversation, and he didn’t want to bring up such a loaded, negative topic. “Should we do another shot?”

“You may each have just one more shot,” Finnick announced in his best authoritative voice. “Last call.”

“Already?” Katniss asked. 

She pulled out her cell phone and frowned. Peeta recognized a change in her demeanor, although he wasn’t sure what it was. Did she regret spending her entire night talking to him? He thought she had been enjoying herself, especially when he had launched into a rant about cheesy Hallmark movies. He didn’t mention that before this year he used to enjoy them, but it had been fun when they started making up ones of their own. Her specialty was titles. His was weaving together plots that involved melodramatic love triangles and lost dogs. She hadn’t laughed, but she had smirked and rolled her eyes, and told him he might want to pursue a new career path.

She could have left at any time. There had been no obligation to stay.

“It doesn’t feel like it’s almost two,” she said.

“Elfin!” The word came out almost as a shout.

“What?” she asked.

“That’s a good synonym, isn’t it? It makes me think of mystical powerful warriors.”

“It makes me think of pointy ears and Santa’s workshop,” she said. “But I guess it’s better than miniature.”

Finnick served them their final two shots for the evening. Katniss insisted they do it at the same time. She stood up, threw hers back with a tilt of her head, and without a warning, pulled Peeta into a kiss.

His world narrowed until there was only her warm mouth, her hand on his thigh, her fingers tangled in his hair. Finnick, the barstool, his frustration, even the ninth rendition of that god-awful Mariah Carey song faded to nothing as Katniss’s tongue brushed against his lips.

He opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, but she abruptly pulled away and slipped her sweater on. Peeta swayed, nearly falling off his stool. The room was spinning, but he wasn’t sure how much blame he could place on the alcohol. He watched her tie her scarf loosely around her neck and pull on her coat.

She had tasted like peppermint and vodka, and she had made the whole world stop, but she was leaving now, and he would have to return home to an empty apartment and a long night awake with his thoughts.

“Do you live near here?” she asked, buttoning up her coat.

The question startled him. Had she really said that? Or was he so drunk that he was hallucinating the question he most wanted to hear?

He played it safe and nodded. 

“Do you want to show me where you live?”

This time he managed a simple: “Yes.”

She took his hand and pulled him toward the exit. He followed without a backwards glance at Finnick, too distracted at the thought that soon enough he’d be removing the layers she had just pulled on, unwrapping her like a Christmas present.

***

The flurries from earlier had turned into a heavy snow during the hours Peeta had spent inside the bar. A cab idled beside the curb waiting for them. The driver said someone named Finnick had called ten minutes earlier and that the fare was taken care of.

Finnick was possibly the best wingman in the history of the universe.

Peeta gave the driver his address once he and Katniss were in the backseat. He worried that they would lapse into an awkward silence or that she would regret her brazen decision, but as soon as the car pulled away from the curb, her mouth was on his once more. 

She snaked her hand between the buttons of his pea coat, laying her palm flat against his chest. He grazed her cheeks, icy from the brief time they were out in the cold. Already her skin was warming from the heat blasting in the car, the snowflakes melting, dripping down her face. He fulfilled his earlier urge and wiped them away.

The cab driver loudly explained his policy on charging for stains. Peeta barely heard him.

After the cab dropped them off in front of Peeta’s apartment building, Katniss fell into step behind him. Her footsteps were almost soundless, and she kept her hands to herself. Peeta kept glancing over his shoulder to make sure she hadn’t run off.

He knew he was very close to overanalyzing this situation, saying something stupid, and ruining the whole night. As they climbed the two flights of stairs that led to his apartment, he decided to shut his brain off. He would not think or hope or plan. Tonight would unfold organically, and if that meant Katniss finding her way into his bed, then good. (Actually, great. Amazing. Perfect.) And if not, if they just sat on his couch and talked for another couple of hours, then it would still be a wonderful night. 

As soon as the door shut behind them, Katniss had him pressed against it, her hands unbuttoning his coat and roaming the planes of his stomach as soon as his coat hit the ground.

“Be careful,” he said as she kissed his neck. “That’s my favorite coat.”

She laughed—finally, actually laughed!—and slipped off her jacket, throwing it on top of his. 

“Are you going to give me a tour?” she asked.

“Of course,” he said. “This is my apartment.” He waved his arms with a flourish before sitting down. “And this is my couch.”

She climbed onto his lap, grabbed a fistful of his hair, and pulled his head back. She looked down at him, her lips twisted into a coy smile, and rocked her hips against him. He bit back a groan.

“That was a great tour,” she said.

And then there were no more words, no more jokes, just her tongue in his mouth, her fingers raking through his hair, and her hips—oh god, her hips. He no longer kept quiet as she grinded against him. His moaning only encouraged her as she ripped off her sweater and threw it over her shoulder.

His shirt and her tank followed soon after. Her skin was hot against his, like a fire burning through his chest. She kissed a trail down his neck and ran her tongue across his collarbone. He unhooked her bra with one hand—the other too preoccupied with cupping her ass—and she broke contact long enough to pull the straps down her arms.

He stared at her breasts, relieved he had turned off his brain. Otherwise, he would have said something stupid like wow or thank you. This was not the first pair of breasts he had seen. What was wrong with him?

“Don’t gawk,” she teased. “It’s rude.”

He kissed the hollow of her throat, the freckles that dotted her shoulders, the space between her breasts. When he finally took her nipple into his mouth, she gasped and arched her back, her silver chain hitting him in the face.

She pulled away. “Sorry.”

“Do you want to take it off?” he asked.

He felt the change in her as much as he saw it. It was like a wall going up, the heat disappearing from her body. He wanted to take a step backward not just to resume kissing but also to return her to her formerly happy state. She looked sad all of a sudden and a little lost.

“You don’t have to,” he said quietly.

“Can you undo it?” She leaned into his chest and brushed her braid out of the way.

He tried to ignore how good her breasts felt pressed against his chest and focus on finding the clasp in the dark. His chin rested on her shoulder as he squinted, examining the chain. He undid the clasp and handed her the necklace.

“Thank you,” she said, placing it carefully on the coffee table behind her. 

She stared at him for a moment, half-naked and gorgeous but surprisingly sad. He wouldn’t mind stopping here if she would allow him to hold her close and try to bring her smile back.

“Kind,” she said, running a finger along his jawline. “Friendly. Charming. Sweet.”

It took him a moment to realize she was listing synonyms just as he had done back at the bar. He liked her words much more than the ones he had come up with.

“Funny. Handsome. Strong.”

“Those last three aren’t synonyms,” he said.

“Shut up.” She kissed him again, this time slowly and carefully. There was no fever in her touch, but a different kind of intimacy instead. He felt an explanation in her kiss, an apology. He pulled her closer, tasted the compliments on her tongue. He wanted to remember her words, this moment, no matter what happened next. 

“Can we finish the tour now?” she mumbled into his ear.

His head spun. All of his blood had rushed south, and the alcohol was clouding his vision, and she was so impossibly beautiful and strange. She was a mystery to be solved, a map to be followed.

But she was also just a woman, he reminded himself. And she seemed to want him as much as he wanted her.

“The alcohol is messing with my head. I can’t seem to remember where I left the bedroom,” he said.

She laughed again. It was a wonder she hadn’t been laughing the whole night, the way she gave them up so easily now.

“Who said anything about the bedroom? That’s awfully presumptuous of you.”

She stood and held out her hand. He pressed his lips against her wrist, and she stared at him as if trying to work out a puzzle.

“I thought you weren’t going to sleep with me,” he teased.

“Don’t get cocky,” she warned. “I could still leave.”

He didn’t doubt her. She seemed like the type of woman who would walk out half-dressed, no matter how turned on she was, just to prove a point. He kind of liked that about her.

“I’ll just finish the tour myself,” she said with a sigh. She was halfway down the hall before he grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder.

She let out a yell of surprise. He charged into the bedroom and dropped her onto the bed. He watched her breasts bounce as she landed, listened to her musical laughter as she held out a hand in invitation, and then the apartment fell quiet as he lowered himself on top of her and found her lips once more.

***

A thump and a muffled "shit" woke Peeta up. He opened his eyes and let out a groan. His head was pounding and his mouth was dry, but a surge of happiness ran through him. He was not used to waking up in such a good mood. 

He sat up and found Katniss, clad only in jeans, attempting to slip on her boots.

The night before came flooding back, and Peeta was not disappointed with the burst of memories.

"Hey," Peeta said.

"Um, hey," Katniss said, wrapping an arm around her chest.

"Can I make you some breakfast?"

"No, no. That's not necessary." 

She approached his side of the bed, cast a glance at the floor, and frowned. She turned and searched the floor behind her.

"I think everything is in the living room," Peeta said. 

"Right. Thanks," Katniss said, unable to meet his eyes. He thought he saw a blush heating up her cheeks, but her hair, no longer in a braid, covered her face.

He slid his jeans on before following her into the living room. She already wore her bra and tank and was searching for her sweater.

"You don't have to go so fast," Peeta said. 

"I do. I really do. I'm sorry." She looked regretful, but it dawned on Peeta that it wasn't her quick getaway that was making her frown. It was that she had been caught in the act.

He didn't exactly have an extensive history of one-night stands. He had never actually had one. He didn't like the idea of using someone for a night even if the intention was mutual. And he sure as hell wasn't going to start now, especially when he had had such a great time with Katniss. Despite being almost strangers, they had laughed and teased each other throughout the night, reaching the kind of intimacy that usually took several months. Feeling desire was one thing, but not worrying about looking like a fool in front of another person was something else entirely.

He was comfortable with her. He wanted to make her breakfast and serve it in bed. He wanted a quiet morning of her voice in his ear, her head on his chest.

Peeta grabbed her hands. "Hey," he said. "I had fun last night."

"Me too." But she still wouldn't meet his eyes. She sidestepped him, and he let her hands fall from his. "I really have to go though. Um, Merry Christmas."

She scooped up her sweater and coat and was out the door before he could respond. He sighed. As predicted, today was well on its way to sucking, and tonight would only be worse.

Because it was Christmas Eve. And that meant going home.

***

Peeta adjusted his tie even though it was mostly hidden underneath his sweater. It was way too hot in the house, especially with the fire going, but his mother had to have her picture perfect Christmas, and that included her three sons dressed to her exact specifications. After spending his entire childhood trying and failing to please his mother, Peeta no longer put in much effort, but wearing a tie on Christmas Eve was preferable to the fight not wearing one would start.

And no matter how small the argument began, his mother always managed to blow it up until she had used every synonym imaginable for the words “disappointment” and “failure,” which was why Peeta rarely visited despite living only twenty minutes away.

His older brother Tyler was in the kitchen helping his mother prepare dinner. While Peeta couldn’t make out what they were saying, he could hear the soft tone of his mother’s voice. Tyler’s wife Emily was upstairs breastfeeding their six-month-old daughter, Hannah, and when she eventually reappeared, Peeta’s mother would transform into someone else. Someone maternal and warm. Someone Peeta didn’t recognize.

Peeta fiddled with his phone, ignoring the Hallmark Christmas movie on television. It had something to do with firemen and cats and would likely end with the two main characters making out and wishing each other a Merry Christmas. Picture perfect bullshit ending.

Peeta’s phone buzzed.

Finnick (4:07pm): So…did u have a good night?

Peeta (4:07pm): No.

Katniss’s silver chain was burning a hole in his pocket. He had been surprised she had left it behind considering how important it seemed to be. He didn’t know why he brought it with him tonight. As soon as he had picked it up in the daylight, he realized it was a locket, but he hadn’t looked inside. It felt too much like an invasion of privacy.

Finnick (4:09pm): what happened? You scare her off with all your charm and goodlookingness?

Peeta (4:11pm): That’s not a word.

Finnick (4:14pm): you’ve got quite a tab waiting for u next time you’re in. you’re lucky I’m currently dating the owner’s daughter or you’d be in quite a bit of trouble

The doorbell rang. 

“Must be Rye,” Peeta said, referring to his younger brother. “I’ll get it.” 

Peeta texted a quick “gotta go” to Finnick and stood up to answer the door. His father nodded his thanks.

Except it wasn’t Rye. When Peeta swung open the door, the very last person he expected to find on the porch was Katniss.

How did she know where he’d be? Had she contacted Finnick? Was she here to talk or just to get her necklace back?

“Hi,” Peeta said, confused but delighted at her presence.

Katniss’s eyes widened in surprise, and a moment later, her face transformed into a look of horror.

“Oh,” she said. “Oh, shit.”

Before Peeta could respond to this less than stellar greeting, Rye came running up the path with a six-pack in his hand.

“Sorry! Forgot the alcohol in the car, and trust me, we’re going to need it to get through tonight.” He stopped beside Katniss and slipped an arm around her waist.

“Peeta, I’d like for you to meet my girlfriend, Katniss. Katniss, this is my brother, Peeta.”

Oh. In that case, Katniss’s reaction had been spot on. This wasn’t good. This was, actually, awful and terrible and about a thousand other variations of fucked up.

“Um, Peet, are you going to let us inside? It’s pretty cold out here.”

“What? Yeah. Come in.” He avoided looking at Katniss as they walked past, but he caught the scent of her perfume. Heat rushed through him as images from last night danced through his head. 

Her hasty exit this morning suddenly made a lot more sense. Guilt over cheating on Rye had sent her rushing out of Peeta’s apartment.

Poor Rye. Poor perpetually single Rye. He had finally found a steady girlfriend, and she wasn’t faithful. Who knew if Peeta was even the first? 

He ignored the desire her presence had stirred up and glared at her. He was furious that just because she didn’t know how to be faithful, he was now the bad guy too. Whether he had known who she was or not, he felt as if he had betrayed Rye.

“You know, all this talk about her, and you never once mentioned her name,” Peeta said. “It’s such a unique name too. Not one you’d easily forget.”

“Uh, sorry,” Rye said. “You know it now.”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Katniss,” Mr. Mellark said, shaking her hand. “We’ve heard wonderful things about you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too,” she mumbled, face red. At least she looked ashamed.

“Rye!” Delly squeaked as she trotted down the stairs. She hugged him tightly before taking her place at Peeta’s side. She reached out her hand toward Katniss. “It’s so wonderful to finally meet you!” Delly exclaimed. “I’m Delly Cartwright, Peeta’s fiancée.”

Now it was Peeta’s turn to look horrified while Katniss glared.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Katniss said with false cheer.

Yeah, he had been absolutely right this morning. Tonight was going to suck so, so much.


	2. Christmas Eve

When faced with the option of leading Katniss into the kitchen to meet his mother and older brother or going upstairs to introduce her to his infinitely kinder sister-in-law, Rye went with the obvious option.

“You have to come down sooner or later,” Mr. Mellark said. “You’re stuck here until tomorrow afternoon.”

Rye scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, about that...”

“Don’t even try it,” Mr. Mellark said. “Unless you really want to upset your mother. We spend every Christmas morning together.”

“But Katniss and I—”

His father cut him off with an upheld hand. “Where are your overnight bags?”

Rye let out an exaggerated sigh. “They’re in the car.”

“Perfect. Rye, you’ll be in your old room with Peeta. Katniss, why don’t you share the guest bedroom with Delly?”

Twin shouts of “No!” jumped out of Katniss’s and Peeta’s mouths much to the alarm of the others.

“I’m just…I don’t even know Delly,” Katniss said, kind enough to at least smile in the blonde’s direction. “Doesn’t Peeta have a room?”

“Yeah, that would be the guest bedroom,” Peeta said.

When Peeta came home during his Thanksgiving break freshman year, he found his bedroom stripped of all his belongings. New furniture and generic decorations had taken the place of his twin bed and worn dresser. Even the paintings he hung up as a timeline of his developing talent from age four to eighteen were gone.

His old furniture had been donated. His belongings had been boxed and moved into the attic. He was certain his paintings had only been spared from the trash thanks to Rye.

During extended breaks from school, he slept on an air mattress on the floor of Rye’s room, even when the guest bedroom was empty because, according to his mother, "You never know when company might show up."

Peeta never once visited home on the weekends. He moved into an apartment his junior year, so he’d never have to return home. His only required overnight stay was Christmas Eve.

“I’ll take the couch,” Katniss offered.

“Are you sure?” Mr. Mellark asked. “We want you to be comfortable here.”

“It’s no problem. I would be more comfortable sleeping by myself.” She smiled once again at Delly but failed to make eye contact.

“Alright, let me introduce you to the only remaining sane person in the family.” Rye took Katniss’s hand and led her up the stairs.

Once they were out of earshot, Delly turned to Peeta. “She seems nice.”

“You think everyone seems nice,” he replied.

It wasn’t that Delly was entirely naïve. She recognized bad traits, but it took her a little longer than most people. She saw the good in everyone, even if she had to look really, really closely.

“You don’t think she’s nice? I guess she doesn’t seem like Rye’s type…”

Peeta stiffened. “What do you mean? What’s wrong with her?” The words were out of his mouth before he realized what an idiot he was being. A second ago he was brushing off Delly’s praise. Now he was prepared to defend Katniss against any criticism.

Delly tilted her head to the side and frowned. “Uh, nothing. Like I said, she seems nice. I just always thought that Rye…well, never mind what I thought. He seems happy.”

“I’m going to go put these in the fridge,” Mr. Mellark said, indicating the six-pack of Strongbow he had taken from Rye. “I’ll try to prepare your mother while I’m in there.”

Peeta swiped a bottle and twisted off the cap. “Prepare her how?”

“Compliment her cooking. Thank her for her hard work. Say nice things about Katniss in her general vicinity. Repeat until she kicks me out of the kitchen.”

Peeta rolled his eyes. “Good luck with that.”

“You know how your mother gets this time of year.”

Peeta took a long pull of his drink to stop himself from commenting. His mother was a nightmare year round, a demanding, insufferable nightmare. She expected nothing less than perfection, and so far, only Tyler had managed to meet her high standards.

No one ever helped her, she claimed. Everything was left up to her. What had she done to deserve such a horrible, ungrateful family? What didn’t anyone appreciate her?

And on and on and on. The holidays only exacerbated these traits.

“Peeta, can I talk to you?” Delly asked once Mr. Mellark left.

“Of course.” Peeta followed her to the couch. They sat down, leaving a few inches of space between them.

“My work Christmas party was a couple of nights ago,” Delly said.

“Was it fun?”

“Yes. Really fun. During the party, I...well, you see…”

“Delly? It’s okay. You can tell me. Whatever it is.”

“Thom asked me out!” Her cheeks flushed crimson and she looked away, eyes locked on the floor.

Peeta inhaled sharply. He hadn’t realized it was possible to feel so happy and devastated at the same time. He had first met Thom when he had to pick Delly up from work when her car was in the shop. She had kept him waiting an extra five minutes as she wrapped up her conversation with Thom in the parking lot. Peeta had been more sad than annoyed as he watched Delly laugh and touch Thom's arm. It had been months since Peeta had made her laugh like that. Longer since they had flirted.

“And you said…” Peeta prompted.

“Yes. I said yes.” She looked back at Peeta and bit her lip. “Is this too fast? I feel like it’s too fast. I won’t go if you don’t want me to.”

“Delly, it’s fine. No, it’s better than fine. I’m happy for you.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really.”

She pulled him into a tight hug, and it was a relief. The last time she had hugged him was the day after Thanksgiving, right after she had handed him her copy of the key but before she had walked out with her suitcase. He had been terrified that that would be the last meaningful contact they had, that they would become strangers, only coming together to put on one final act for their families.

He had known her practically his whole life. The summer before first grade, less than ten minutes after a moving truck had pulled in next door, Delly had appeared on his doorstep in a bright yellow dress and requested he send his sisters out to play. When he revealed it was a family of three brothers, she shrugged and invited him out instead. She forced him to play tea party in the front yard while the movers sidestepped them, their arms overloaded with boxes. Peeta hadn’t been a huge fan of the tea party, but he had liked Delly. And more importantly, she seemed to genuinely like him too.

Peeta loved her, but he didn’t—couldn’t—love her the way she deserved. She wouldn’t have been able to reciprocate the feelings even if he had. Their whole relationship had been a confused mistake, a stupid drunken night blown out of proportion by their meddling mothers. Peeta asked Delly out to confirm there was nothing more than friendship between them, but one date somehow turned into five dates and suddenly, they were moving in together. Even as they fought and drifted apart, both unable to offer what the other one needed, pressure from their mothers kept them hurtling forward toward an inevitable disaster.

Ten months after they began dating, Peeta lost his job and blew his severance package on an engagement ring. He knew he’d never make her happy, but he couldn’t stand facing one more failure. He would turn twenty-seven next year, but he felt further from his goals than he did when he graduated college. He wanted a career and a family. He wanted some sense of fulfillment.

He wanted his mother's nagging voice out his head, telling him that no one would ever love a fuck-up like him.

While he didn’t regret Delly moving on, he did regret losing what she represented. She had been the last semblance of structure in his life. Now she was one last goal he didn’t complete. One last failure.

But it would be worth it, he decided, if she kept him updated on her life. About work or this guy or what movie she had seen and loved. At this point, he just wanted his best friend back.

Hell, he'd play tea party again if it returned them to normalcy.

They had agreed they wouldn’t tell their families until after the holidays. Preferably over the phone. Neither one wanted a lecture from an overbearing mother. While Peeta’s would blame him and rant about his many perceived failures, Delly’s would stress about her age (which was 26) and her appearance (only fifteen pounds overweight) and how she needed to get serious about her future.

No thanks.

“I feel kind of bad about lying to Rye,” Delly said, glancing at the stairs. “He’s always been our partner in crime.”

“We just need to get through the next twenty-four hours, and then we can tell him.”

“Okay,” Delly said softly. “Dinner with your parents, dinner with my parents, and then we never show our faces again.”

Peeta laughed. “Something like that.”

“Thank you, Peeta. Really. I’ve been feeling so excited but so terrible since the party. It was making me crazy.”

He briefly considered telling her about Katniss, but he didn’t want to make it look like a competition. He really was happy that she had a date. Maybe this would appease her mother when Delly finally had to deliver the news. Besides, revealing anything about his night with Katniss would just add another burden on Delly’s shoulders. She would hate to keep such a terrible secret from Rye.

“Now you can just feel excited,” Peeta said. “I’m excited for you.”

“I hope…I really hope we can go back to the way things were one day. When we were just friends.”

“I really want that too.” He grasped her hand, and he felt like that seven-year-old kid again, excited over a kind girl who had chosen him. He'd never stop being grateful toward her for giving him that feeling of acceptance. “I miss you.”

Delly’s grin was so wide and genuine, he couldn’t help but mirror it. She swept him into a hug once more.

“Ugh, get a room.”

The pair startled apart to find Rye at the bottom of the stairs, a look of mock disgust on his face. Katniss stood on the bottom step, her scowl peeking out over Rye’s shoulder. A thrill ran through Peeta at the thought she might be jealous.

He decided he was being ridiculous and ignored the thrill in favor of focusing on his anger.

“Have fun in the kitchen,” Peeta said unkindly.

Delly swatted his arm. “Good luck!”

Less than a minute after Rye and Katniss disappeared into the kitchen, Tyler and Mr. Mellark exited and went upstairs. 

A moment later, Rye emerged, wringing his hands. “Mom sent Dad and Tyler to set up the air mattress.”

“Okay,” said Peeta.

“And I’m supposed to go into the basement and locate the angel for the top of the tree.”

Peeta glanced at the Christmas tree in the corner of the living room and confirmed an angel with gold wings already stood at the top. He looked back at Rye and raised an eyebrow.

“She wants the one with the blue dress. The winter angel or whatever.”

“Peeta broke that one a couple of years ago,” Delly said. “I remember because she wouldn’t. Stop. Complaining.”

Peeta held back a laugh. Delly was kind and optimistic, but after years of searching for the good in Mrs. Mellark, she had come up empty. Peeta’s mother was possibly the only person on Earth that Delly could not stand. 

“Yes. It’s broken. It’s gone to trash heaven. But I’ll have to pretend to look for at least ten minutes while she interrogates Katniss.”

“She’ll be fine,” Peeta said. “She looks like the kind of girl who can handle herself.”

“Please,” Rye said. “You need to go in there and keep an eye on things.”

“Me?” Peeta echoed. “I seriously doubt my presence will help matters. I’m not taking the bullet for your new girlfriend.”

“Decorate the cupcakes Dad made. The frosting’s in the fridge. You’re the only one with a reason for being in there.” When Peeta didn’t move, Rye grabbed his hand and tugged him to his feet. “Please, Peet. Just hover nearby. Intervene if Mom gets too harsh.”

Delly nudged him and shot him a stern look. Well, as stern as Delly could manage. Peeta sighed and slipped into the kitchen. Katniss leaned against a counter, arms crossed at her chest. 

Clearly things were going well.

“So it’s not serious then?” Mrs. Mellark asked. She stood behind the island in the middle of the room, her back straight, a sharp knife in hand. Her mouth was a thin line, a disappointed queen surveying her disappointing kingdom.

Katniss stared at Peeta as he pulled the tubes of frosting out of the refrigerator.

“Serious enough,” Katniss said.

“What are you doing?” Mrs. Mellark demanded.

Peeta set the frosting down in front of the cooling cupcakes.

“Dad asked me to get dessert ready.”

“You can do that later. I’m having a conversation with your brother’s friend.”

Peeta rolled his eyes at his mother’s rudeness. She couldn’t even say the word girlfriend? Or Katniss’s name?

“I’m not here to stop you. Just pretend I’m not here. You’re good at that.”

His mother slammed her knife into the head of lettuce, slicing it into two. Peeta winced. It was an involuntary reaction, and it pissed him off. He flicked off the cap of the white icing and set to work making a snowman. His anger made his work sloppy, so he decided the lopsided snowman could be his mother's.

It was petty but it made him feel slightly better.

“Did you meet Rye at school?” Mrs. Mellark asked.

“At Panem U? No, I attend the community college down the street.”

“Hmm.” Ah, Mrs. Mellark’s favorite noise, a sign of displeasure and judgment. It was the soundtrack to Peeta’s childhood. “Your parents must be proud.”

“They’re dead, actually.”

Peeta’s head shot up. Katniss stared straight ahead, her right hand clenched over the dip of her V-neck sweater, fingers searching for a silver chain that wasn't there. 

“But yes,” Katniss continued, “I think they would be proud that I manage to take a full course load while working forty hours a week.”

Peeta remembered everything Katniss had told him last night, including her favorite color (green) and favorite comfort food (lamb stew), but she hadn't said a word about her parents. She had a sister though, Primrose, who had graduated from college in May.

Mrs. Mellark paused in her butchering of the lettuce and gave Katniss a onceover. “How old are you?”

“Twenty-six,” Katniss replied. “How old are you?”

Peeta bit back a laugh as he carefully created a Santa hat out of red and white frosting. 

His mother laid her knife on the cutting board and glared at Katniss. “That’s not an appropriate question. I was merely wondering why Rye isn’t with someone his own age.”

“I’m only five years older.”

“Yes, five years older and struggling through community college. You should have a career by now.”

Katniss pushed herself away from the counter to stand directly in front of the island. Peeta couldn’t see her expression, but he noticed her clenched fists. “I don’t remember mentioning a struggle. I have a 3.8 GPA. Should I provide my most recent transcript for you to look over?”

“Look, _Katniss_ , you are the first girl my son has brought home, and I was expecting someone a little more…impressive.”

“Yeah, well, you haven’t exactly dazzled me either.”

Peeta would not laugh. He would not make the situation worse. He set the tube of frosting down and cupped a hand over his ear.

“Do you hear that?” Peeta asked. “That sounds like Rye. He’s calling for you, Katniss. He’s literally begging you to leave the kitchen and come help him.”

“I don’t hear anything,” Mrs. Mellark snapped.

“That’s probably just your age,” Peeta said.

“Excuse me?”

He ignored his mother and held the door open for Katniss. He let it swing shut on whatever rude comment his mother was in the midst of making.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Katniss said, turning to face him.

The living room was empty. Everyone was completing his assigned task somewhere in the house. Delly was probably in the basement, keeping Rye company until enough time passed.

“I can handle myself around people like that.”

“I know,” Peeta said. “But I figured we should at least get through dinner first. The fisticuffs can resume after we eat.”

“Fisticuffs?” Katniss echoed, sounding more amused than angry. “You think it’ll come to that?”

“You never know with my mother.”

Katniss smirked and looked down at her boots. “I probably should have been a little more patient. Rye _is_ her son, and this _is_ her house, and I was pretty…”

“Rude?” Peeta supplied. “Snarky?”

“Yeah, yeah, thanks.” She gave his ankle a light kick, and he was transported back to last night, to her teasing smile, her musical laughter, and the pretty words she had gifted him on the couch. He had wanted to stretch that moment out, live in it for as long as he could. And he had managed it until she had left so abruptly this morning. 

And then appeared on his doorstep.

“I’m just not used to the whole meeting the parents thing,” Katniss said.

“I can imagine,” he agreed without thinking.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Her earlier smile vanished. Her arms were back to being crossed at her chest, and he could feel the strength of the wall she had thrown up.

“I just meant…I could tell you don’t do the meet-the-parents thing a lot.” Shit. Still not the right thing to say. As she narrowed his eyes, he felt a burst of anger in his chest and he clung to it, unsure of what else to do. He wasn’t going to allow her of all people to make him feel guilty.

“And how can you tell exactly?” she demanded.

“Based on last night, I can assume you don’t really do commitment.”

“Seriously?” She took a step forward, invading his personal space. His gaze dropped to her lips and back up again. Desire mixed with anger, but he wouldn’t let that happen. Not again.

“I spend one night with you, and now I’m a slut?” Katniss demanded, her voice low.

“First of all, I didn’t say…that,” Peeta said, dropping his voice to a harsh whisper.

“You’re doing a real nice dance around the word.”

“And second, I’m basing my opinion on the fact that you had a one-night-stand while dating my brother,” Peeta said. “We were together for hours and you didn’t mention a boyfriend once.”

“Oh, that’s right,” Katniss sneered, poking him in the chest. “I guess I should apologize to the guy with a fiancée.”

Peeta squeezed his eyes shut. He couldn’t argue with that, not without revealing the truth about him and Delly. And he didn’t want to give up that secret yet. Let her think he was a bad guy too as long as it drove her crazy.

“You’re not good enough for my brother,” Peeta said. “You need to tell him the truth or just break up with him.”

“And what about Delly?” Katniss demanded. “She seems way too sweet to put up with your bullshit.”

“Leave her out of this,” Peeta snapped. “This is about Rye. He’s a really good guy, and you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home, and—”

She cut him off with a fierce kiss, her fingers digging into his shoulder blades as she forced him closer. He knew it was wrong, knew that he no longer had the excuse of ignorance, but his body betrayed him. He wrapped his arms around her and disappeared, lost in the scent of her perfume and the taste of her mouth.

Peppermint. Of course.

She pulled away as abruptly as she did the night before at the bar. He was practically panting as he stared at her mouth, the rise and fall of her chest. For a moment, he forgot about Rye and the rest of his family, and thought only of finding a room with a door that locked, just to secure a few more moments alone.

"You're an asshole," Katniss said. "And an oblivious one at that. I want my necklace back, and then I never want to speak to you again.”

She tried to storm off, but he caught her arm before she reached the hallway. He spun her around and pulled her flush against him. He slipped her necklace out of his pocket and around her neck. Leaning over her shoulder, his chin brushing the side of her face, he fastened the clasp.

"There," he said, taking a step back. “I guess we’re done now.”

She studied him for a moment, but he couldn't read her expression, couldn't tell what she was thinking. Without another word, she turned away.

This time he let her disappear, down the hall, down the stairs to the basement, down to his brother and Delly. This wasn't the same girl who had said pretty things on his couch, the same girl he had thrown over his shoulder, and laughed with when he struggled to rip open the condom wrapper.

But somehow, despite everything, he still wanted her, the girl from last night, the girl fucking with his head right now, whoever she really was.

He covered his face and groaned, hating himself.

***

Dinner, while tense, was mostly uneventful. Mrs. Mellark ignored Katniss's existence entirely, focusing instead on Tyler and Emily's fairy tale marriage and perfect baby.

It wasn't until after the dishes were cleared and Peeta was bringing the cupcakes into the dining room that Mrs. Mellark remembered her other children.

"Rye, how did you and your friend meet?"

Rye startled as if he hadn't expected to be called on. His questions were usually simple (grades, goals, girlfriend), but now that he finally had a girlfriend by his side, he had much more to answer for.

"Mutual friends," Katniss said. "They set us up."

"Really. Someone talked to Rye and decided you would be a good match for him?"

"Mom," Rye warned. "You hardly know her."

"Well, she's hardly talked," Mrs. Mellark said.

"It's hard to get a word in when you're falling all over yourself to compliment Tyler," Peeta said, passing out the cupcakes.

Emily hid her smile behind her hand, fully aware of the hierarchy of favoritism that existed in the family. She swore Tyler was a normal, kind human being outside of his childhood home, and that he only turned into an insufferable, arrogant idiot when he was around his mother.

Peeta made sure his mother got the lopsided snowman (small victories) and gave Katniss the one he had specifically decorated for her after she had stormed off. Everyone else received random selections.

"Uh, Peet? What's up with Katniss's cupcake? It's not all that Christmas-y," Rye said.

Katniss stared down at the yellow flower, carefully crafted out of frosting. Peeta would have preferred to use fondant, but he hadn’t had the luxury of time.

"It's a primrose," Katniss said. She dipped a fingertip in the frosting before bringing it to her lips. Peeta watched, transfixed, wondering if later she would taste sugary sweet or if the cool burn of peppermint would linger. "Thank you. It's beautiful."

"A primrose?" Rye echoed.

"My sister," Katniss mumbled, leaning close to Rye’s ear.

“Oh,” Rye said. “I, uh, forgot.”

Peeta was surprised by Rye's lack of knowledge, but then he remembered that Katniss hadn’t seemed to know his name beforehand either. While they hadn't exchanged last names, he couldn't imagine there was a plethora of Peetas walking around. 

By his estimate, Rye and Katniss had only been dating a couple of months, but surely their families had come up? At some point? Even in a 'they-are-the-worst-let's-not-talk-about-them' way? Maybe they weren't as serious as Peeta thought.

"What are you studying in school?" Mrs. Mellark asked, not about to let a plate full of pastries distract her from her interrogation.

Katniss glanced up at Peeta. He remembered the answer, and he knew what his mother would say. He mouthed the word 'fisticuffs.' She smiled and shook her head, as if shaking off Peeta's kindness.

"Physical therapy."

"You're going to be a doctor?"

"No, I'm in the two year Physical Therapy Assistant program. It's really—"

"Hmm." Mrs. Mellark cut her off. "Settling for an associate’s degree. Any reason you’re not pursuing your doctorate?”

“Honey, why don’t you stop grilling Katniss and eat your dessert?” Mr. Mellark said.

Mrs. Mellark glared at her husband. “I’m not grilling—”

“You’ve had a long day getting everything ready. You need to relax and eat something delicious.”

“Something delicious?” Mrs. Mellark said. “Are you telling me this is the first delicious piece of food I’m putting in my mouth today? Was my cooking not up to your five star standards?”

Peeta couldn’t be sure, but it appeared as if everyone around the table—with the exception of his mother and Tyler—rolled their eyes at the same time.

“Let’s take dessert in the living room,” Peeta said.

They all stood up at once, although Emily had to yank Tyler to his feet. Mrs. Mellark remained behind, glaring at her plate. As Peeta exited the kitchen, he heard her mutter, “And not even a thank you for all my hard work.”

The door swung shut behind him.

***

A few hours later, the house was dark and quiet as everyone settled into bed. Peeta’s father had finally replaced the old twin air mattress with a brand new queen sized one, but it still took Peeta several minutes to get comfortable.

“Hey, Peet?”

Peeta froze, worried his constant rustling was keeping Rye awake.

“Do you want me to take the air mattress?”

Ugh. Peeta felt terrible. Awful. Beyond guilty. He had slept with Rye’s girlfriend, unknowingly, but then he had kissed her with full awareness, and later tried to cheer her up with a cupcake. Meanwhile, Rye was concerned about Peeta’s comfort.

Peeta was possibly the worst brother ever. Worse than Tyler, even, and that was saying something.

“I’m fine,” Peeta said.

“Are you sure? I always get the bed.”

“It’s your bed,” Peeta reminded him.

“I guess.”

The room fell quiet, and Peeta carefully adjusted himself one last time. He deserved to sleep on an uncomfortable air mattress. He deserved the saggy one that he barely fit on. On second thought, he deserved the floor.

“We tell each other everything, right?” Rye asked.

Guilt was a snake, twisting and slithering inside Peeta’s stomach. He couldn’t see his brother’s face from where he lay in bed, and he preferred it that way. Any night before this one, he would have sat up, turned to Rye, and asked him what was wrong. Now he couldn’t bear to hear his brother’s next words.

“Peet?”

“Yeah, everything.”

“I feel so bad about lying to you. Delly, too. I just didn’t know what else to do.”

“Lie?” Peeta asked the ceiling. “What are you talking about?”

“Mom just wouldn’t let up on Thanksgiving about how I never brought a girl home. Tyler’s married, you’re engaged, and I’m the forever alone guy.”

Rye paused, but Peeta didn’t dare fill the silence.

“I made her up,” Rye said quietly.

“Made who up?”

“The girlfriend. My girlfriend,” Rye explained. “I told Mom I was seeing someone to shut her up. And then when Mom insisted I bring her home for Christmas, I panicked.”

Now Peeta did sit up to stare at his brother. Rye’s hands covered his face.

“When I told my, um, my friend about my predicament, he suggested I take one of his friends home and pretend. He grew up with Katniss, and he knew she was going to be alone for Christmas, so he suggested—”

“You’re not dating Katniss?”

Rye propped himself up on his elbows. “I’m trying to make a serious confession to you, and you’re just jumping right in.”

“You’re not dating Katniss?” Peeta repeated.

“No, I barely know her. I’ve only hung out with her a few times before this, and it’s always been in a group. She’s really nice for doing this, especially for putting up with Mom, and…”

Rye’s voice faded out. Peeta could no longer hear him over the shouting going on in his head.

Rye and Katniss weren’t together!

Rye and Katniss had never been together!

Last night, Peeta and Katniss had slept together as two consenting, romantically unattached adults.

“So you’re not interested in her? At all?” Peeta asked, interrupting whatever Rye had been saying. Peeta had to make sure.

Rye grinned. “Not in the slightest. Do you have the hots for her or something? I mean, what was up with that cupcake?”

Without bothering to respond, Peeta left Rye’s room and crept down the stairs. He had to talk to Katniss. 

Now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! One chapter left. Find me on tumblr: andthisisthewonder


	3. Christmas Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was only supposed to be three chapters, but it seems it now calls for a fourth. Sometimes I post previews of this and other stories on tumblr. Come say hi: andthisisthewonder

Disappointment settled over him, heavy and familiar. It felt like the morning after Christmas when there were no more presents to open or cookies left to enjoy. It was as if there was nothing left to be excited about.

Peeta stared down at the empty couch. The pillow Rye had pulled off his bed was still fluffed and waiting on top of a folded blanket.

There was no way Katniss had left. She didn’t seem like the type of person that was easily scared off. She hadn’t cracked under the pressure of his mother’s scowl or Peeta’s strange behavior because she had promised Rye she would play her part. She was obviously loyal, so he doubted she would abandon Rye in the middle of the night, leaving him to explain her absence the next morning.

Then again, he didn’t really know much about her. He had gone from thinking her an amazing, gorgeous woman to an unfaithful, deceitful (albeit still gorgeous) woman and then back again.

He scanned the length of the dark hallway, wondering if she was in the bathroom when he heard a noise in the kitchen. It sounded like laughter.

He crept closer and heard it again: a muffled laugh followed by a voice. He pushed open the door.

The kitchen was dark, lit only by a solitary light over the stove. Katniss was hunched over the island, her back to him, and her hand pressed to her ear. When she spoke again, he realized she was on the phone.

“I love you, too. Merry Christmas. Call me when you can.”

She put her phone on the counter, and turned to face him. “Did you need something? I was just saying hello to one of my many boyfriends.”

Oh, good. She was still pissed about their earlier encounter. The primrose cupcake may have made her smile, but it wasn’t exactly an apology.

“Don’t ask me his name though,” she continued. “I have trouble keeping track.”

“I’m really sorry about what I said. I shouldn’t have implied that you’re…promiscuous.”

“You mean slutty? Easy?”

Peeta winced. “Can we not play the English teacher game with those words? Rye told me the truth.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “What exactly did he tell you?”

“That he made you up on Thanksgiving when our mom wouldn’t get off his back.”

Her eyes widened, but she gave no other indication of surprise. “That’s it?”

“What else is there?”

She shrugged.

“I’m really sorry about what I said. It wasn’t about you being slutty or anything.” He winced at his choice of words and his inability to form an inoffensive, coherent sentence. “Which you’re not! I mean, I don’t care how much sex you have. You’re young, you’re single. You should be having a lot of sex.”

“Please stop talking about my sex life.”

“Sorry. It was the being unfaithful part that bothered me. Especially because it was my brother." 

He ventured a little further into the room. With her back against the island, she had nowhere to go unless she wanted to walk by him, but she didn't seem ready to flee. 

"You seemed amazing, so when I thought you already had a boyfriend, I was pissed,” he said. “I know it’s unfair to make assumptions about you and then be mad when they’re wrong. You just didn’t seem like cheating type.”

“Don’t you think that’s a little hypocritical coming from you?”

“What?" He waved his hands a little too vigorously. "No, no, I’m not engaged. I mean, yes, Delly and I were engaged, but we broke up a month ago.”

Katniss arched an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I swear. I’d send you upstairs to ask her, but I probably shouldn’t wake her up for that.”

Her arms fell to her side. Her shoulders relaxed. “You’re really not together?”

“We broke up on Thanksgiving. We’re waiting until after the holidays to tell our parents. You can imagine why.”

“Wow, Thanksgiving wasn’t a good time for anybody.”

“The holidays are always a little…tense.”

“So you and Delly aren’t together anymore,” she said.

“And you and Rye were never together.” He moved closer. “We’ve been stuck in a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie this entire time.”

She cracked a small smile. "Looks like it. It should start snowing any second now. Isn’t that how they usually end?"

"You're half right." He finally closed the distance between them and reached for her hand. She pulled it out of reach, hiding it behind her back.

"Peeta..."

"I'm sorry, that's right. You don't watch those movies. Let me explain how they usually end." His fingers twitched, but he didn't reach for her hand again. "It snows, the new couple wishes each other a 'Merry Christmas,' and then they kiss."

"That sounds nice, but we should quit while we're ahead."

He frowned. "Is this because my break-up is too recent? It was at least six months in the making.”

“No, it’s not that. I just think we should be happy we're not as shitty as we thought we were and leave it at that."

She brushed past him, but he spoke again before she reached the door. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

"I mean I kissed you even though I thought you had a fiancée. That's kind of fucked up."

"Yeah, well, I kissed you back even though I thought you were dating my brother. I guess we both suck."

The corner of her mouth turned up in a half-smile as she approached him. His heart sped up, but then she was reaching around him for her cell phone and backing away. 

"I had a lot of fun with you last night. But let's just leave it, okay?"

It hit him then what an idiot he was. All this time he had assumed guilt over cheating on Rye had sent her rushing out of his apartment. But she hadn’t cheated. She just didn’t want to be there.

“You’re right,” Peeta said. “I’m sorry. I’m glad we cleared the air.”

“Me too.” She offered an awkward wave, her cell phone clutched in her hand. “Goodnight, Peeta.”

The door swung shut before he could say another word.

*

Peeta slipped into Rye’s bedroom and onto the air mattress without making a sound. 

“Did you just run out of here to hit on my pretend girlfriend?”

Peeta jumped at Rye’s voice. He tilted his chin up and got an upside down view of his brother’s knowing smile. “You’re awake?”

“I had to see what the hell you’re up to,” Rye said.

“I’m not up to anything.”

“Yeah, that’s why you rushed out of here to talk to Katniss as soon as I revealed she’s single.” Before Peeta could respond, Rye asked, “You and Delly aren’t together anymore, are you?”

Peeta sighed, caught. “What gave it away?”

“Besides the eyes you were making at Katniss all night?”

Peeta groaned and covered his face. Had he really been that obvious? Of course, Rye was usually the only one in his family that paid him any attention. Peeta doubted anyone else had noticed.

“It was actually when I caught you guys hugging on the couch,” Rye said.

“You saw us being affectionate, and your first thought was, ‘they must be broken up’?”

“Um, yeah. Things have been so tense between the two of you. When I saw you two smiling and hugging, I kind of figured it out.”

Peeta was silent for a moment. His broken engagement still stung a little, even if it was for the best. But now that Katniss had rejected him (again), he was back to feeling awful.

“We ended it on Thanksgiving.”

“Geez, the holidays really, really suck around here,” Rye said.

“They always do.”

“Look, I’m freaking exhausted, but we need to talk tomorrow, okay? No running out of the room?”

“Sounds good,” Peeta said, turning onto his side.

“Goodnight, Peeta. And cheer up. It’s Christmas!”

“Please don’t remind me.”

*

Peeta’s family was in the strange stretch of in-between years when it came to Christmas. All three boys were at the age where they received only practical presents (underwear, money, gift cards), and the only grandchild wasn’t old enough to enjoy the holiday. It would be another few years (and maybe another grandchild) before Christmas would offer any of its old magic.

The only memorable moment was when Rye handed Katniss a present.

“I thought we agreed to no gifts.” Katniss said, pulling off the bow. Rye batted her hand away, but she managed to stick the bow to the top of his head.

“I had to get you something to thank you,” Rye said. “You know, for putting up with me.”

“Just let her open it,” Mrs. Mellark demanded. “We have to get ready for church.”

Katniss leaned over her gift, but she looked up through her eyelashes and met Peeta’s gaze. Peeta silently mimicked his mother’s exasperation. Katniss smiled as she peeled off the wrapping paper.

Nestled inside the little box was a brown leather…glove? Peeta wasn’t sure. Katniss slipped it onto her right head. The leather went over her three middle fingers and fastened around her wrist. She mimed shooting an arrow, aiming it straight at him. She grinned when he pretended to be hit.

“Archery?” Peeta asked.

“Yeah,” Katniss said. “I’ve been practicing since I was a little girl. I used to do it with my dad.”

Peeta knew for sure then that Rye hadn’t picked out the gift himself. If Rye didn’t know Katniss had a younger sister, then there was no way he knew she practiced archery or that it meant so much to her.

“Thank you…sweetheart.” Peeta held back a laugh as Katniss stumbled over the term of endearment. She reached out for Rye. There was the slightest bit of hesitation before she touched his cheek and gave him a swift kiss on the lips.

“I’m glad you like it,” Rye said.

“It looks like we’re done,” Mrs. Mellark announced. “Let’s clean up and get dressed. We’re leaving in a half hour.”

Tyler, Hannah, and Emily disappeared upstairs as Peeta and Mr. Mellark gathered the scattered pieces of wrapping paper.

“Uh, Mom, I forgot to tell you…Katniss doesn’t really do church,” Rye said.

“What do you mean doesn’t ‘do’ church,” Mrs. Mellark asked, air quotes and all. “Please don’t tell me you’re an atheist.”

“Wiccan, actually,” Katniss said.

Mrs. Mellark actually froze in place, a hand on her forehead, eyes squeezed shut. Peeta thought she muttered a ‘God help me’ under her breath. 

“Well, today you’re Catholic,” she continued. “Get dressed.”

Katniss tried to protest. “I’m really not comfortable—”

“Rye, please tell your friend that she now has twenty-five minutes to get ready.”

“Sweetheart, just let her stay here,” Mr. Mellark said, stuffing the last bits of wrapping paper into a garbage bag.

“Alone?” Mrs. Mellark looked horrified.

“It’s not like I’m going to pocket the silver,” Katniss said, rolling her eyes. 

“Can’t she just stay in the car?” Mrs. Mellark asked.

“Yeah, Rye, I can stay in the car. Just leave me a bowl of water and the window cracked.”

“There’s no need for sarcasm,” Mrs. Mellark huffed, crossing her arms.

Katniss mirrored Mrs. Mellark’s stance. “There’s no need to treat me like an unwanted dog.”

“It’s fine,” Rye said, subtly sliding in between them. “I’ll stay home too.”

“Absolutely not!” Mrs. Mellark snapped. “Do you have any idea what my friends will say if you don’t show up? They’ve been asking after you. They know you’re on break from school.”

Rye’s frustration suddenly turned to glee. His smile gave Peeta a very bad feeling.

“You’re right, Mom,” Rye said. “I’ll go. Peeta can stay with her.”

“What?!” Mrs. Mellark, Peeta, and Katniss cried in unison. 

“How is that any better?” Katniss asked.

“Rye, I don’t think it’s appropriate for your very engaged brother to stay behind with your disrespectful, Wiccan friend.”

“Are you implying something?” Katniss demanded. Her trademark scowl had returned to her face. She looked ready to attack.

“I’m only _implying_ that we don’t know you well, and I’m not comfortable with you staying behind with Peeta while we’re gone.”

“Since when have you cared about what I do?” Peeta asked.

“Enough.” Mr. Mellark didn’t raise his voice—he never did—but the tone was strong enough to quiet everyone. “Rye, you’re going to church. Ms. Trinket will have my head if she doesn’t see you. Katniss, you are more than welcome to stay here while we’re gone. There’s no reason to force you to attend if it’ll only make you uncomfortable.”

Mr. Mellark turned and handed over the now full garbage bag of wrapping paper to Peeta. “And if you don’t mind missing the service and the annual brunch, please stay and keep Katniss company.”

“That sounds good,” Rye said before rushing up the stairs before his mother could interject.

Katniss looked over at Peeta. He shrugged.

“I’m fine with staying home,” Peeta said.

Mrs. Mellark’s face had turned an unnatural shade of red, but she said nothing. Mr. Mellark nodded, satisfied, and followed Rye upstairs.

And that was that.

*

Katniss sat on the couch with a book, and Peeta emptied the dishwasher while everyone else scurried around the house to get dressed.

When Delly came into the kitchen to say goodbye, she pulled Peeta close and gave him a kiss on the cheek. The affection felt natural, friendly. He knew now what Rye had meant the night before.

Once everyone was gone, Peeta leaned over the couch and tugged on Katniss’s braid. It was strange how comfortable he felt around her despite only knowing her for forty-eight hours. It was similar to how he felt around Delly, except he was very much attracted to Katniss. He knew he couldn’t force her to go on a date with him, but he could at least try to be her friend.

“Please do not manhandle me while I’m reading,” Katniss said without looking up.

“You’re not really Wiccan, are you?” he asked.

“I’m not anything, but Rye told me to give your Mom a hard time.” Peeta couldn’t see her face, but he could hear the smile in her voice.

“You’re doing a great job. Do you want some breakfast?” Peeta asked, using his hand to prop up his chin. “Everyone else gets brunch after church.”

“I’m not that hungry. Thanks though.”

“Oh, good,” he said, squashing down his disappointment. “Now I can eat a cupcake for breakfast instead of cooking something.” 

“Hmm. That doesn’t sound like such a terrible idea.”

“Much less work,” he said. “And clean up time.”

“Are there any penguin ones left? Those were cute.”

“I’m pretty sure there’s at least one.”

Finally, she leaned her head back against the top of the couch, so she could see him. He had a sudden flash of her doing that at his apartment, leaning back to kiss him before he went to work.

Clearly, he was still mourning the end of his engagement and the normalcy of domestic life. He had to stop this fantasy.

Katniss let out an exaggerated sigh before closing her book and tossing it aside. “You’ve convinced me.”

“Follow me. I’ll prepare you a glass of milk.”

“So generous.”

*

If Katniss harbored any hard feelings or residual awkwardness from the night before, she didn’t show it. They sat in a comfortable silence at the island in the middle of the kitchen, enjoying their sugar-filled, frosted breakfast.

Katniss had devoured two cupcakes and was in the middle of her third when she suddenly looked over at Peeta and said, “I was talking to my sister last night. On the phone.”

Peeta swallowed his bite of cupcake, surprised at Katniss’s sudden confession.

“She graduated college in May. Went right off to the Peace Corps because she’s a ridiculously good person. She’s got a two-year commitment in Ethiopia.” 

“Wow, that’s amazing.”

“She’s eight hours ahead. I wanted to wish her a Merry Christmas before she went off to work. And tell her about that stupid cat movie.” 

Without thinking, Peeta said, “ _The Nine Lives of Christmas_?”

“And you claim not to watch them.”

“I used to. And I accidentally started watching that one. My dad had it on.”

“Whatever you say.” Katniss smiled at him over her glass of milk. “Christmas is Prim’s favorite holiday. Starting the day after Thanksgiving, we would binge watch every Christmas movie we could find.”

Peeta smacked the counter before pointing at her. “I knew it! I knew you had to watch them too. You knew way too much about them.”

She knocked his hand away. “I may have watched them, but I didn’t enjoy them.”

He echoed her earlier words. “Whatever you say.”

“I had to DVR all the new Hallmark movies, so she can watch them when she’s back. Just another year and a half to wait.”

“That’s really—”

“Pathetic?” she offered.

“I was going to say sweet.”

“I’m sticking with my first choice. You can come up with some nicer sounding synonyms if you want.”

Katniss stood and cleared their plates. He studied her, wondering how much her lack of Christmas spirit had to do with her personality and how much could be attributed to her sister’s absence.

Or the loss of her parents. 

He remembered her friend from two nights ago and wondered if they lived together, or if the friend was home for the holidays. He wondered if Katniss would be all by herself tonight.

“You know, if you don’t have anyone to spend Christmas with, you could spend it with me,” he said.

“Peeta…”

“Just as friends. So we’re both not alone and miserable. I have to go to Delly’s parents’ house for dinner, but after that, we could hang out. Watch a horror movie or something else anti-Christmas.”

She closed the dishwasher and turned around to face him. “You’re serious?”

“Yeah, why not?”

She leaned back against the counter and considered him for a moment. Her expression reminded him of two nights ago, when she sat on his lap and called him kind and charming.

Finally, she said, “I’ll think about it.” 

Before he could respond, she asked, “Do you mind if I take a shower?”

“No, uh, go, uh, right ahead.” Was he stuttering? He was eighty percent sure he was being an idiot again. “Let me know when you’re done, so I can hop in.”

He sat in the kitchen until he heard the shower turn on. He groaned and covered his face as if this would stop him from imagining her naked.

It, of course, did not work.

*

He was sitting on Rye’s bed, checking his email on his cell phone when there was a knock on the closed door.

“Come in!” he called.

Katniss stood in the doorway, wrapped in the smallest towel his mother owned. It might have even been an oversized washcloth for all the good it did to cover her. His gaze drifted up her legs, hovered at her barely covered thighs, before he reached her face. Water droplets dotted her forehead and cheeks, and he thought of snowflakes caught in her eyelashes.

“Um,” he said. 

“I’m done. Shower’s all yours.” She smiled and disappeared into the hall. 

He heard a door shut, and wondered where she was getting dressed and why she hadn’t done it in the bathroom.

He would not read into this. He wouldn’t.

He readjusted his pajama pants. He was going to need an extended shower.

*

When he came downstairs, dressed and still completely thrown off by Katniss’s behavior, he found her draped across the couch. She wore jeans and a green cardigan and was reading again.

“This couch is surprisingly comfortable,” she announced.

“Can I sit?” he asked.

She sat up and pulled her legs underneath her. As he sat down, he glanced at the cable box beneath the television. There was still a few minutes before mass ended and brunch in the church basement began.

“I need to ask you a question,” she said.

The way she was looking at him was making him nervous. “Okay.”

“Why’d you have my locket with you?” Her fingertips brushed it as she asked, but she kept her eyes on him.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Despite everything, I thought maybe I’d get to see you again.”

“That doesn’t really explain anything.”

“Well, I knew Christmas with my family was going to suck, so I brought your necklace with me as a…I don’t know…a good luck charm?” He shrugged. “The thought of you made me happy, I guess.”

With her hair twisted into a damp braid, she was unable to hide the red blush of her cheeks. 

“Does it open?” he asked.

She jumped at his question. Her mind had obviously drifted elsewhere. “Does what?”

“Your necklace,” he said. “Does it open?”

“You didn’t look?” She pushed herself off the arm of the couch, so she was sitting up completely straight. 

“It felt like an invasion of privacy.”

“You’re so…” she trailed off and shook her head, leaving the sentence forever dangling because instead of completing her thought, she kissed him.

Peppermint again. The scent of lavender. The dampness of her braid brushing against his neck. She invaded all of his senses, and he was back in his apartment, back at the beginning before confusion and guilt and a hasty exit.

And then he was firmly in the present because she was tugging at his hair, climbing into his lap, and grinding against him.

She pulled away, but she was still close enough that he if he leaned forward just a little, his lips would brush hers once more.

“I left it on purpose,” she said.

“Hmm?” he asked, somewhat dazed. He couldn’t remember what they had been talking about before. Obviously he had said or done something to prompt this make-out session. He wished he could remember so he could do it again.

“My necklace,” she clarified. “I’ve been wearing this nearly every day for eight years. I would never forget it.”

“Why would you leave it?”

She leaned her forehead against his, her hands resting on his shoulders. A few drops of water dripped off her braid and onto his shirt.

“Do you know why I really left so quickly?” she asked. “Because I wanted to stay.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You were right when you said I don’t do the meet-the-parents thing a lot.” He flinched at the mention, but didn’t stop her from continuing. “I don’t really do relationships. Ever. But you…” She shook her head. He could tell she was struggling. Her thoughts were tangled up inside her head, and she couldn’t get them out, not the way she wanted, so he kissed her again.

His hands landed on her hips, and he pulled her tighter against him. 

This time when she pulled away, her words spilled out in a rush. “I left my necklace because it would give me an excuse to get in touch with you again. But first I would have time to think about what I wanted to do about you.”

“Guess you didn’t expect to see me again so soon,” he said.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt. Her fingers danced along his stomach before slipping below the waist of his jeans.

She kissed his neck, gently nipping at his pulse point before whispering into his ear, “I’m glad I did.”

He knew if he kept his mouth shut he could kiss her again, let her take this wherever she wanted it to go. But he couldn’t help it. He had to ask.

“Why don’t you do relationships?”

She glanced up at him, but she didn’t move her hands. “Because they always end in pain. All of them. Even the happy ones.”

This time when she kissed him, there was an intensity that hadn’t been there before. She yanked off her cardigan and wrapped her arms around his neck.

He slipped a hand beneath her tank top and undid the clasp of her bra. She whipped off both layers and plucked at his t-shirt.

“Your turn,” she said.

Finally, her skin was pressed against his, his hand was untangling her braid, her tongue was in his mouth. He wasn’t entirely convinced this was real. A few hours ago, she had brushed him off, told him they should quit while they were ahead.

Real or not, he’d take what he could get.

He wrapped his arm around her and spun them around, so she was flat on her back, and he was hovering over her. He grabbed her thigh and hiked it over his hip, grinding into her at the same time.

Desire coursed through him, clouding his judgment. He forgot where they were, what time it was, everything besides the girl beneath him. He shuddered as she unbuttoned his jeans. She rubbed him through his boxer briefs, slid a hand up and down his length.

“Fuck,” he muttered against her neck. This felt better than he remembered. He was sure he had sobriety to thank for that.

He undid her jeans and pulled away long enough to yank them off. His fingers were just tracing the lacy edge of her underwear, tantalizingly close to her center, when the front door opened, and everything went to hell.


	4. Christmas Afternoon

The back of the couch faced the front door, so Katniss and Peeta had a two second reprieve before they were noticed. This was just long enough for them to share a look of horror before Delly exclaimed, “Oh my god!” and slapped a hand over her mouth.

Gasps from the remaining parties came next as one by one they noticed Peeta half-dressed and Katniss's dark hair beneath him and put two and two together.

Peeta sprang to his feet as Katniss rolled to her side. Everyone stared. Rye finally whistled to get Peeta’s attention and pointed down at his fly. Cheeks flushed, Peeta zipped up his pants. He could have turned around to do so, but Katniss was in a much worse state, so he had to keep the attention on himself.

She sat up, arm crossed over her chest, her bare back facing the door, and grabbed her tank top. Luckily, her bra was tangled in it.

“How dare you!”

Peeta whipped his head around toward the door, shocked to find Mrs. Cartwright standing there. She wasn’t supposed to be back until later that afternoon. Just like Peeta’s family shouldn’t have arrived home for at least another hour.

It clicked then. For whatever reason, the Cartwrights had arrived earlier than expected, contacted Delly, and everyone had skipped the church’s brunch. They had all come home to the Mellark household to catch Katniss and Peeta in the act.

Merry freaking Christmas.

“You—you’re unbelievable!” Mrs. Cartwright yelled. “How could you do this to my sweet girl?” Mrs. Cartwright looked over at her daughter. “Well? Don’t you have something to say?”

Delly’s eyes widened. She wrung her hands together before walking over to Peeta and slapping him across the face. ‘I’m sorry,’ she mouthed with a pained expression.

“How dare you! I can’t believe you would do this to me!” Delly shouted half-heartedly. Luckily, Mrs. Cartwright was mad enough for the both of them, so she hardly noticed Delly's lackluster reaction. 

“I knew it!” Mrs. Mellark shouted. “I knew there wasn’t something right about that girl.” She pointed at Katniss lest anyone think she was referring to Delly. “I knew it the minute I laid eyes on her. She’s a—a harlot!”

"A harlot? What year is it?" Katniss asked, pulling on her cardigan.

“Mom!” Rye exclaimed. “Don’t call her that!”

Mrs. Mellark put her hands on her hips. “Are you really going to defend her after you found her underneath your brother? On Christmas?”

Finally, Mrs. Cartwright left the doorway and came to stand with Delly. Hannah began to fuss, which gave Emily the excuse to get the hell out of the living room. Tyler remained, a silent figure behind his parents.

Katniss, fully dressed, stood up beside Peeta. Hidden behind their backs, she linked her pinky with his. He looked over at her in surprise, and she offered a small, reassuring smile. It seemed to say, 'don't worry, we're in this together.'

At least, that's what Peeta hoped it meant.

“What happened? Whatever Delly did, we can fix this,” Mrs. Cartwright said.

“Mom!” Delly shrieked at the same time Peeta said, “She didn’t do anything.”

“Is it her weight? Are you not sexually attracted to her anymore?”

“ _Mom_ , this is not the time,” Delly forced out through clenched teeth.

Mr. Cartwright hovered in the doorway, looking more uncomfortable than angry.

“Well, look who he chose,” Mrs. Cartwright said. “Look how skinny she is. I’ve told you over and over again that men prefer slender women.”

“We are not discussing this right now. Whatever happened is between Peeta and I,” Delly said.

“Well, we all know what happened,” Mrs. Mellark cut in. 

Mr. Mellark covered his face and groaned.

“Katniss cast some sort of spell of seduction and stole Peeta away,” Mrs. Mellark finished.

“Yes,” Katniss deadpanned. “That is exactly what happened.”

“Mom, you’re insane,” Rye said. “She didn’t—”

“She did something! She seduced your brother, cheated on you, and ruined a perfectly good engagement. On Christmas!”

“You need to calm down with this Christmas thing,” Peeta said. “I assure you, this situation would suck any day of the year.”

“You listen to me, young man, I’ve put up with your sass for long enough! How could you do this to your brother? To Delly? To _me_?”

“How is this even about you?” Peeta threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Not everything that happens in this family is about you.”

“You’re an embarrassment,” Mrs. Mellark snapped. “You can’t hold a job—”

“Now that’s not fair,” Peeta interrupted.

“—you’re sneaking around behind Delly’s back with your brother’s girlfriend of all people! It’s just a matter of time before you’re living back at home, with no job, no fiancée, no prospects. You’ll be sitting on your ass useless, lazy—”

“I’m gay!” Rye shouted.

Silence. Everyone except Mrs. Mellark subtly shifted their eyes toward Rye. She twisted around and stared at him, mouth agape.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she finally said. “One failed relationship with a woman doesn’t make you gay. You’ll find someone else.” She turned back to Peeta. “Do you see what you’ve done to your brother?”

“No, I mean it.” Rye stood ramrod straight, his hands fists at his sides. “I’m gay. Like super gay. Like, I-have-a-boyfriend-and-it’s-getting-pretty-serious-gay.”

Mrs. Mellark opened and closed her mouth several times. She spun around and stared at Katniss. “You! You seduced one son and turned the other gay! You really are a witch!”

“Your mother cannot honestly be this stupid,” Katniss said under her breath. Peeta choked back a laugh.

“Mom, seriously, stop. I’ve known I was gay since I was, like, seven.”

“You’re not. You just haven’t met the right woman yet. Don’t let this setback lead you down the wrong path,” Mrs. Mellark said.

“Mom—”

“You are _not_ gay!” she yelled.

“Peeta and I broke up,” Delly said in an attempt to shift the attention away from Rye.

“Oh, honey, no. You won’t do much better than Peeta. You just have to give him another chance,” Mrs. Cartwright said.

“How are these women so terrible?” Katniss wondered out loud. 

“Lots of practice,” Peeta replied.

Mrs. Cartwright glared at the pair. Mrs. Mellark barely heard them. She was still staring at Rye, puzzling over him like he was a broken heirloom she had to glue back together.

“No, Mom, I mean, we broke up a month ago,” Delly said. “We’re not even living together anymore. He didn’t cheat. He didn’t do anything wrong!”

“I don’t—I don’t understand.” Mrs. Cartwright grasped Delly’s hands. “Why would you break up? You two are in love. And honestly, sweetheart, you’re not getting any younger.”

Delly yanked her hands away. She sounded surprisingly calm when she opened her mouth. “We are not in love. We never were. We used to be best friends and we’re barely that anymore.” Delly cast a pained expression in Peeta's direction. “But you know what? This isn’t any of your business. We’re both adults, and we can make decisions without your input.”

“Delly, you will not speak to me like this.”

“I just did,” Delly snapped. “Now I’m going to pack up my stuff, and then I’m going home. I think this goes without saying but dinner tonight is cancelled. Merry Christmas everyone.”

She stormed up the stairs. 

“Delly! Delly, come back down here! Honestly, Michael, are you going to stand for this?”

“I think no matter what I say or do I’m going to get myself in trouble,” Mr. Cartwright said. “I’ll be heading home now.” He patted Mr. Mellark on the back, muttered a ‘good luck’ and left.

“Michael, get back here!” Mrs. Cartwright followed him out the door.

“This is unbelievable!” Mrs. Mellark said. “Everything is falling apart. You two are such disappointments,” she said.

“They are not,” Mr. Mellark said. “Rye, you are a smart young man, and you make me proud. Gay or not, you are my son, and I love you.” Mr. Mellark turned to Peeta. “Peeta, you are anything but an embarrassment. If you and Katniss want to see each other, then by all means do it. Just try to do it somewhere other than our couch.”

Mr. Mellark stepped in front of his wife. “And you, don’t you think you could tone down the theatrics? You’re the reason Rye and Peeta don’t visit more often.”

“How dare you say that to me! On Christmas!”

“Yes, yes, we all know it’s Christmas, and how dare we all be less than perfect on your favorite holiday.” Mr. Mellark shrugged. “I’m going to make a gin and tonic, sit down, and watch nine hours of _The Christmas Story_. If you’ll excuse me.” Without waiting for a response, he went into the kitchen.

“I think I hear Emily calling,” Tyler said, suddenly realizing how few people were now left. He didn’t need any attention turned toward him. He saluted and ran up the stairs.

“I can’t take this. I’m going to lie down. Just know that you ruined Christmas!” She pointed at Katniss to once again make it clear who she blamed. 

Katniss forced a smile and said, “Merry Christmas, Mrs. Mellark. Thank you for having me.”

Mrs. Mellark’s eyes nearly bulged out of her socket. Instead of yelling, she took a deep breath and stalked up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry, Rye,” Katniss said once the three of them were alone.

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I promised I'd pretend to be your girlfriend, and I screwed it all up.”

“At least you gave my mom a hard time,” Rye said with a small smile. "You fulfilled that end of the bargain."

“I’m sorry too. I can’t believe how badly all of that just went,” Peeta said.

“It was going to come out sooner or later.” Rye scratched the back of his head. “Of course, when I imagined it, it was just me, mom, and dad, and we were all calmly sitting on the couch. In exactly zero of the scenarios I considered did I just blurt it out mid-argument in front of our family and closest friends.”

“You were trying to tell me last night, weren’t you?” Peeta asked.

Rye shrugged. “Sort of.”

“Hey, I’m going to get my stuff and run before your mother decides she’s in the mood for round two.” Katniss froze. “Shit. I don’t have my car.”

Rye held out his keys. “Take mine.”

“Oh no, you’ll be trapped here.”

“I’ll drive him wherever he needs to go,” Peeta offered.

“Yeah, and Gale and I can come pick it up later.”

“Are you sure?” Katniss asked.

When Rye nodded, she hugged him tight and whispered another apology in his ear.

“Do you feel any better now that it’s all out there?” she asked.

“Not really. But my dad took it much better than I thought he would. Even my mom's reaction wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it'd be.”

“She wouldn’t want to make a scene in front of our closest family friends,” Peeta added.

“That wasn’t a scene?” Katniss asked. “Seriously?”

“You really should have seen us on Thanksgiving,” Peeta said. “That was a scene.”

Footsteps alerted them to someone coming down the stairs. Luckily, it was Delly rather than Mrs. Mellark.

She dropped her bag and threw her arms around Rye.

“I’m so happy for you!” she said. “We need to get together as soon as possible, so you can tell me all about your boyfriend.”

“I’d like that,” Rye said. “Thanks Delly.”

She kissed his cheek and turned toward Peeta. “I told you Katniss wasn’t his type.” She winked, wished Katniss a “Merry Christmas,” and left.

Katniss packed up her book, make-up bag, and a few other miscellaneous items. “I may have left a few things upstairs. Just burn them if your mother hasn’t already.”

Rye laughed. “Will do.”

Katniss hugged Rye once more before heading to the door. With a quick wave, she left.

Peeta stared at the closed door, his brow furrowed. Had she really left without another word? No hug or kiss? Touch of the arm? Hell, he would have taken a handshake.

“Do you have her number?” Peeta asked.

“If she didn’t give it to you, then sorry, you’re out of luck.”

“Oh come on, help me out.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure how much more help I can give you. I brought a girl home. For you, apparently. Then, I managed to get you the entire house to yourself. I’m basically brother of the year. Decade, even,” Rye said.

“Sorry, you’re right. Although a heads up about your early arrival would have been appreciated.”

“Seriously?” Rye asked. “Check your phone. You’ll find plenty of text messages and missed calls.”

“Alright, I give up. You are the superior brother, and I’m the worst. Worse than Tyler.”

Rye shook his head. “Now you're just exaggerating.”

“You want to grab your stuff?” Peeta asked.

“Hell no. Let’s just get out of here.”

“Good call.”

***

“So I’m sorry for being such a shitty brother,” Peeta said once they were on the road.

“What are you talking about? Katniss and I weren’t dating.”

“That’s not what I meant.” Peeta tried to swallow but his throat was dry. Last night, he had felt terrible when he thought Katniss was Rye's girlfriend. He felt ten times worse now that he knew the whole truth. Rye had been carrying this giant secret around, and not only had Peeta not noticed, but he had blown Rye off when Rye tried to tell him.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” Peeta said.

“What? Last night?”

“Yeah, last night, Thanksgiving, any night you felt you had to hide who you really are.”

“I just…I wasn’t ready to tell anyone outside of school. Last night was kind of a spur of a moment thing. I felt like I had been lying to you for way too long.”

Peeta cast a quick glance at his brother. “I’m sorry I didn’t wait to hear you out. I shouldn’t have run out on you for a girl.”

“She’s a pretty awesome girl.”

“Still.”

“You think we could do lunch or something tomorrow? Maybe catch a movie? Just hang out the two of us?” Rye asked.

“I think that sounds perfect. You know you can stay with me until you have to go back to school.”

“I might take you up on that,” Rye said. “But for now I can stay with Gale.”

“So he’s the boyfriend?” Out of the corner of Peeta’s eye, he saw Rye blush.

“Yeah. Eight months as of last Wednesday.”

“Wow. I guess it’s serious?”

“I think so. I hope so." Rye shrugged and looked out the window. "When I told him I felt like I had to bring someone home for Christmas, he was so…understanding. He didn’t push me to bring him or tell the truth. He just said, ‘I’ve got the perfect girl for you.’”

“He sounds pretty great.”

“He _is_ pretty great.”

“Can I meet him?” Peeta asked.

“Hell no. If we make it to a year, then I’ll consider it.”

“Oh come on! I’m the most normal one out of our entire family.”

“That isn’t saying much. Let me introduce him to Delly and see what she says,” Rye said.

“Completely unfair.” Peeta drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. Despite how well the conversation was going, he was filled to the brim with nervous energy. “Are we okay?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, unless, you’re not okay. With…everything.”

“I don’t care if you’re gay. Actually, I’m kind of happy,” Peeta said. “Less competition for me.”

“If you’re talking about Katniss, I don’t think you have much competition anywhere. She was staring at you all night. And let’s not forget the position we found you in.”

“Yeah, and she left without giving me any way to get in contact with her.”

“Just give her some time. She might surprise you.” Rye pointed at an apartment complex on the left. “You can pull up right here.”

“Merry Christmas,” Peeta said as Rye removed his seatbelt. “I’m sorry everything came out the way it did today, but thank you. I know you were trying to make things better for me. You always are.”

“Yeah, well, you’re my brother.” Rye said, which in Rye speak meant I love you. 

So Peeta grinned and said, “Yeah, I guess I’m stuck with you,” which meant I love you too.

***

When Peeta finally arrived home, he realized he was exhausted. More than that, he was emotionally drained. He still felt like a shitty brother for ditching Rye the night before. He felt like a shitty ex-fiancé for letting Delly find him with Katniss like that. It didn’t matter that she had a date coming up, and they had been broken up for a month. He wouldn’t want to walk in on Delly with her new boyfriend.

Of course, Katniss wasn’t his girlfriend. She wasn’t his anything. She had been hot and cold since the moment he met her, and she seemed less than optimistic about relationships let alone one with him.

He still couldn’t believe she hadn’t said more before she left. They had been minutes away from having sex before his entire family walked in, and then nothing. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe his mother and Mrs. Cartwright reminded Katniss that relationships were more trouble than they were worth. What was it Katniss had said? All relationships end in pain?

Well, she wasn’t wrong.

He fell into bed and passed out minutes later, hoping he wouldn’t wake up until the new year. Maybe 2015 would be better.

***

It was early evening when he rolled onto his back and stretched. He grabbed his cell phone to check the time and saw a text message from Rye sent a couple of hours earlier.

Rye (2:17pm): Don’t say I never gave you anything. Merry Christmas.   
Rye (2:17pm): 16 Mockingjay Lane, Apartment 3A

Rye hadn’t elaborated, but it wasn’t necessary. Peeta knew what this was.

Katniss’s address.

***

Thirty minutes later, he was walking up her steps, wondering if he was making a colossal mistake. Had Rye given him her address out of the kindness of his heart, or had Katniss asked him to? Peeta probably should have checked. He doubted Katniss wanted him showing up out of the blue, even if they had very briefly discussed hanging out tonight.

He wasn’t sure Katniss ever wanted to see him again.

He knocked on her door. A moment later, she answered, dressed in black yoga pants and an oversized gray sweater.

“What took you so long?” she asked.

“I fell asleep.”

She sighed. “I watched the stupid cat movie. This is what happens when I get left alone for too long. I make stupid decisions.”

“Like sleeping with me?”

“Get your ass inside. It’s freezing,” she said.

“Your roommate left you alone, and you went home with the loser sitting at the bar.”

Katniss walked into the living room, Peeta trailing behind her. “I actually liked the cat movie. I don’t even like cats!”

“Shortly after meeting me, you told me you weren’t sleeping with me. And then you did.”

“You’re not allergic to cats, are you? Because I have one,” she said, falling onto the couch.

Peeta sighed, realizing that these two separate conversations were not going to converge unless he forced them to. “Nothing about you makes sense. Not one thing.”

“It’s my sister’s cat. I’m stuck with the hell beast until she comes back.”

Peeta looked down at her. “Okay. One things makes sense about you.”

“Look, this is who I am. I get scared. I make bad decisions. I run away. I can try to be better if you can try to be patient with me.”

“Are you being serious right now?”

“Are you going to sit down or not?”

Peeta sat on the couch, leaving a respectable amount of distance between himself and Katniss. She rolled her eyes and pulled on his arm. “You can move closer. It’s not like I’m going to run away now. We’re at my apartment.”

Peeta slid over and put his arm around her. She grabbed the crumpled throw blanket she had been using and laid it over their laps.

“I’ve got some royal Christmas movie with Lacey Chabert on my DVR if you’re interested?” she asked, lifting up the remote control.

“Wait a second. You’re moving too fast and in about five hundred different directions. Also, you hate Christmas movies.”

She dropped the remote control in her lap and stared down at it.

“Explain,” he said.

“I hate watching Christmas movies by myself. Having company makes it less pathetic."

"That's not what I meant," Peeta said.

Katniss sighed and looked away. “I don’t like relationships. They kind of freak me out.”

“I noticed.”

“Even the good ones that you think will last forever. They might be the worst.”

“We don’t have to be together forever. I was hoping for one date. Maybe two if I impress you.”

She glanced back at him, trying and failing to hide her smile. “Maybe I want to be with you forever.”

“I guess we’ll have to see what happens.”

She leaned against the arm of the couch and laid her legs across his lap. She lifted her locket out of her sweater and opened it, revealing three pictures. “When my dad died, my mom kind of disappeared for a while. She was here, but she wasn’t. She was completely broken, and I don’t want to feel like that. Ever.”

“Isn’t that part of life?”

“Yeah, a shitty part. I felt bad enough that my father was dead. Seeing her completely shatter was terrifying. I thought I could be stronger than that, but I’m not sure it’s possible.”

“We can watch the royal Christmas movie,” he said.

She bit her lip. “Yeah? I can just press play, and we’ll watch, and that’s that? End of conversation?”

“Sure,” he said. “We don’t have to talk anymore right now. There’s always our date the day after tomorrow.”

“Oh, we have a date?”

“We do. You’re very excited.”

“Maybe I am. Depends on where you’re taking me.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

“Hey,” she said. She knelt in front of him and leaned in. “Merry Christmas, Peeta Mellark.”

His heart fluttered—actually fluttered!—in his chest. He wasn't sure he'd ever be able to predict her next move.

“Merry Christmas, Katniss—oh shit.”

She frowned and sat back on her heels. “What? What’s the matter?”

“I don’t know your last name! I can’t believe this!”

Originally, two days ago, his goal had been to make her laugh. Now he couldn’t get her to stop.

"This isn't funny," he said.

“It’s Everdeen,” she finally choked out. “Katniss Everdeen.” She held out her hand. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

He grabbed her hand and pulled her forward. She fell against his chest.

“Merry Christmas, Katniss Everdeen.”

Okay, so they weren’t standing outside in the softly falling snow, and sure, five minutes ago, he hadn't known her last time. But when her lips met his, all thoughts of cliché, sappy Christmas movies flew out of his mind.

He liked this version of a happy ending better anyway.

Because it was theirs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Epilogue to follow.


	5. Epilogue

“Are you sure your mother doesn’t have a restraining order against me?” Katniss asked as she shut the car door. She swung her overnight bag over her shoulder. “Am I going to get arrested if I go inside?”

Peeta walked around the car and gave his girlfriend a kiss on the forehead. “Stop worrying. She knows you’re coming."

That had been a fun conversation. Peeta and his mother didn't speak much, even with him still working part-time at the bakery, but whenever they had a conversation it always ended with her asking if he was still with _that girl who ruined Christmas._

Now he was bringing _that girl_ back to visit.

It had taken some time and a lot of effort, but he and Katniss had built a solid relationship. They had had a good first date and a great second date. Their third ended with Peeta wrapped around her in bed, their post-coital conversation revolving around Katniss's family. She spilled it all: her father's death, her mother's depression and suicide, Prim's resulting anxiety disorder. Peeta fell asleep that night emotionally drained but optimistic about their future.

She was gone when he woke up. He thought for sure that that was that. She had shared all her secrets, leaving herself raw and exposed. It hurt, and Katniss always ran from pain.

Then, he found her locket sitting on his kitchen table. He finally opened it, and found three pictures inside: a man, a woman, and a young blonde girl. He figured out it was her parents and sister.

He knew what her leaving the locket behind meant, so he waited. He didn't want to rush her and scare her off. Two weeks passed before she showed up at his door.

She still bolted at times, but she never stayed away for long. It had been a couple of months since she had pushed him away at all.

"We owe Rye and Gale for last year. We need to deflect all attention from them," Peeta said.

“I still can’t believe your parents haven’t met him yet.”

“I’m pretty sure my mom has been pretending Gale is a woman this entire time.”

“Do you think she’ll pass out when she meets him?”

“He is pretty tall. And masculine. And, you know, a guy. So here’s hoping.”

They shared a smile as they walked up the path to the Mellark household. Katniss hadn’t seen Peeta’s mother since last Christmas. They had spent Thanksgiving with Prim, who had made a surprise visit home.

But today was Christmas Eve, and the overnight stay was a family tradition. If they skipped, Katniss was certain she’d be blamed. It wasn’t that she cared what his mother thought of her, but she believed Peeta should have some sort of relationship with his mother. She didn’t want to be the reason they never spoke again.

“Oh, I completely forgot! Delly called while you were in the shower. She and Thom landed safely on St. John. They’re probably enjoying dinner on the beach right now,” Katniss said wistfully.

“Lucky them. I told you we should have just gone on vacation too.”

“We can’t flee the country every time your mother invites us over.”

“Can’t we?” Peeta asked.

With a heavy sigh, Peeta knocked on the front door.

Mrs. Mellark answered. “Good evening, Peeta. I see you brought your friend.”

“Are we really back to the whole ‘friend’ thing?” Katniss asked.

“Mom, her name is Katniss, and she’s my girlfriend. She has been for a year now, so please try to, I don’t know, acknowledge her?”

“Hmm,” Mrs. Mellark hummed in response. She stepped aside to let Peeta and Katniss inside.

“Mrs. Mellark, I need some advice. I’ve been thinking about converting,” Katniss said.

Mrs. Mellark laid a hand over her heart. “Really?”

“Yeah. What do they call it when you worship Satan? Is that still a thing?”

Peeta covered his face to hide his smile as his mother stomped off into the kitchen. 

“Two seconds? You couldn’t wait more than two seconds?” he asked.

“She started it,” Katniss huffed.

He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Let’s drop off our stuff and find the booze, okay?”

“Good plan.”

Peeta left his bag in Rye’s bedroom, which hadn’t been touched since last Christmas. When Rye wasn’t at school or Gale’s, he stayed at Peeta’s apartment. Rye still talked to his parents, and had gone out for lunch with his father a handful of times, but his relationship with his mother was rather strained.

Every time they spoke, she asked if he had met a new girl yet.

It was frustrating to say the least.

Katniss dropped her bag off in the guest room where she’d be sleeping. Peeta went to follow her out, but she shut the door and locked it instead.

"You seem tense," Katniss said.

"Can’t imagine why."

"One of us needs to be relaxed if we're going to survive this. How long do you think we have before they notice we’ve been gone for too long?” she asked.

“Five minutes?”

“Good, I’ll do it in four.”

“Do what exactly?”

Katniss pushed Peeta back onto the bed. She leaned over him, her locket brushing against his chest as she kissed him. She palmed his cock through his jeans, tracing the outline as he grew harder.

“Sit up,” she ordered. “You’re getting an early Christmas present.”

She unzipped his pants and pulled his underwear down, letting his erection bounce free.

“You’re seriously going to—fuck,” he said as Katniss took him into her mouth. “Yup, this is happening.”

She pulled away and looked up at him with a smirk. “Get it together, Mellark. And please try to keep it down.”

***

When Katniss and Peeta emerged seven minutes later—Peeta was pretty sure Katniss had taken extra time on purpose, not that he was complaining—Gale and Rye were standing awkwardly in the living room with Mr. and Mrs. Mellark.

"Feeling relaxed?" Katniss whispered at the bottom of the stairs.

"The world could end, and I probably wouldn't be mad," Peeta replied.

"Good, then let's go." She stepped into the living room. "Hey!” Katniss greeted, rushing over to hug first Gale and then Rye. “Did you two just get here?”

“No, we’ve actually been standing here in silence for about three minutes now,” Rye said.

“Yikes,” Katniss mumbled to Peeta. “Should have saved the question about Satanism for right now.”

“Mom, Dad, did you know Katniss is graduating next month?” Peeta asked.

“Congratulations!” Mr. Mellark said, shaking Katniss’s hand. “That’s a huge accomplishment.”

“It’s an _associate’s_ degree,” Mrs. Mellark sniffed. “I’d hardly call that an accomplishment.”

“Yeah, well, I have a master’s degree in education, but guess which one of us will be making more money,” Peeta said. “I’ll give you a hint. It’s Katniss.”

"I still need to take the NPTAE exam in April," Katniss explained. "But I'll be granted a conditional license after graduation, so I can get a job."

“Katniss worked really hard,” Gale said with an edge to his voice. Great. He was already on the defensive. “She had to work nights on top of interning for school during the day.”

Katniss slipped her arm through Gale’s and rested her head against his shoulder. “No need to defend me, Gale. No need to say anything at all, actually. Is it time for dinner?”

“Where’s Tyler and Emily?” Peeta asked.

“They’re celebrating at Emily’s parent’s home in Aspen this year,” Mrs. Mellark said through clenched teeth. “Apparently, skiing is now more important than seeing one’s mother on Christmas.”

“Oh, perfect,” Peeta said. “Tonight is going to go even better than I hoped!”

Mrs. Mellark glared.

***

Dinner went fine. It was quiet, the only sound the clinking of silverware and polite requests to pass the brown sugar carrots.

As usual, Mrs. Mellark waited until dessert to begin her interrogation.

“So Gale, what do you do?”

"I'm security."

Mrs. Mellark's face lit up. "You're a police officer?"

To Gale's credit, his expression didn't change. Even his tone remained normal. "No, ma'am, I'm campus security at Panem U."

"Campus security," she echoed.

"That's how I met Rye, actually. I won't go into detail. I don’t want to embarrass him. But let's just say he's lucky he's cute."

Rye blushed. "He let me off with a warning."

"Campus security," Mrs. Mellark mumbled under her breath. "And you're a friend of, uh, Peeta's friend?"

"Katniss Everdeen, his girlfriend of one year?" Gale asked. "Yes, we grew up together."

"Ah, and it all makes sense."

"Is whatever going on my fault again?" Katniss asked. "It's fine if I'm getting blamed. I just want to be sure."

"There's nothing going on," Gale said. "I'm proud of my job. I'm up for the Assistant Director's position which would mean a more normal schedule as well as a pay raise."

"It's a great opportunity," Rye chimed in.

"And what do you do for a living, Mrs. Mellark?" Gale asked.

Peeta had a sudden flashback of Katniss asking his mother how old she was. He could see where this conversation was going. Gale and Katniss were extremely similar people, both with fiery tempers.

"Katniss and I are moving in together," Peeta blurted out.

"You're what?" Mrs. Mellark demanded.

"Congratulations." Mr. Mellark lifted up his glass as if to toast the happy couple.

"Don't you think you're moving a little fast?" Mrs. Mellark asked.

"Really? Delly and I were engaged in less than a year, but this—" he gestured between himself and Katniss "—is too fast?"

"How well do you really know each other?"

"Well enough to have just given you a blowjob in your childhood bedroom," Katniss mumbled. 

Mr. Mellark, who was seated to Katniss's left choked on his drink. Mrs. Mellark looked alarmed. "What did you say?"

"Nothing," Peeta quickly said, eyes wide. "Nothing at all."

"Look, Mrs. Mellark, I'd really like it if we could start over," Katniss said. "Because I have a feeling I'll be back next Christmas."

"Yeah?" Peeta asked with a smile.

"I wouldn't let you move into my apartment if I didn't think it'd be long-term," she said, her lips curled in a half-smile.

"Her apartment?" Mrs. Mellark said. "What if you two break up? You'll have to move back here."

"I would sooner live on the streets," Peeta mumbled. Rye snickered.

"What did you say?" Mrs. Mellark asked.

"Nothing," Katniss said.

"You two need to learn to speak up." Mrs. Mellark cleared her throat and sat up a little straighter in her chair. "I can't promise anything, but if Katniss promises to be more respectful, I could be more...understanding of your life choices, Peeta."

Peeta rolled his eyes. "Yeah, that doesn't sound completely unfair.”

"It sounds good to me," Katniss said quickly. 

"Okay. So that's settled." Mrs. Mellark forced a smile. "Gale, where did you go to school? Did you attend with Katniss?"

She had said Katniss's name! Peeta and Katniss shared a look of triumph before realizing the direction this line of questioning was going in.

"No, ma'am. I didn't go to college."

Mrs. Mellark took a long sip of her drink. "No college. Alright. What are your plans for the future?"

"Well, I'll hopefully get the Assistant Director position, but long term I want to go into corrections."

"Corrections? As in work in a prison?"

"Yes. It pays well and offers excellent benefits."

"Well," Mrs. Mellark said, fiddling with the collar of her blouse. "Well."

"I really don't see what the problem is," Rye said. "He has a plan. He can support himself."

"This just isn't...what I pictured for you. At all," Mrs. Mellark said. "I'm trying to be understanding here, Rye, but between your brother's friend and this phase you're going through, I just don't know how much more of this I can take."

"Phase? This isn't a phase!" Rye said. "This is who I am. I thought you were starting to accept that."

"But have you tried not being gay?"

Rye laid his hands flat on the table, took a deep breath, and looked into his mother's eyes. "I don't know. Have you tried not being straight?"

She flinched. "Excuse me?"

"It's not a choice, Mom. It's just a fact. And if you can't accept that, then I won't be coming over anymore. Or taking phone calls. I'll be done."

A heavy silence weighed on the table. Mrs. Mellark looked ready to launch into a tirade. Mr. Mellark, on the other hand, was speechless.

Well, it was time to do what Peeta had promised Rye. He would make his own announcement and save Rye from their mother's anger. After last year, it was Peeta's turn anyway. He owed Rye.

"I have a confession to make," Peeta announced.

Everyone's head swiveled in his direction. Even Katniss looked alarmed.

"Katniss and I had no plans on moving in with each other up until last week. We're only doing it because…because of…”

"What, Peeta?" Mrs. Mellark demanded, her hand wrapped tightly around her glass. "What is it?"

"Because of the baby."

Mrs. Mellark's glass shattered on the floor. She promptly stood up and fled the dining room. The sound of her footsteps on the stairs followed.

"Explain," Mr. Mellark said.

"Yeah, seriously," Katniss said. "I'm pregnant now?"

"You look great,” Peeta said with a grin. “Sorry. Was that too much?"

"A bit," Rye said. "But thanks, man. That could have been really bad."

"No, problem. But next year, it's your turn."

***

Mrs. Mellark didn’t emerge from her bedroom for the rest of the night. Eventually, everyone drifted off to bed: Rye to his childhood bedroom and Gale to the couch. Mr. Mellark promised to tell his wife the truth in an attempt to salvage Christmas morning.

Peeta, meanwhile, waited an hour before sneaking into the guest bedroom. He was already on his mother’s shit list. He couldn’t make it any worse.

He slipped into bed and wrapped his arms around Katniss.

“Rye, is that you?” she asked.

“Very funny,” Peeta said, nuzzling her neck. “You still want me to move in, right?”

“Peeta, what your mother says or does has no effect on how I feel about you.”

He ran his hand down her side and over her hip. She shivered. “That’s not what I mean.”

She turned around in his arms so they were face to face. “I’ve worked through a lot of issues to get to this point.”

“I know,” he said quietly. “Thank you.”

“Now it’s your turn.”

“To do what?”

“To trust me. Believe me.”

He smiled and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “I can do that.”

“I want to be with you,” she said.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Although I can’t promise I won’t freak out once you start moving your stuff in.”

“Define freak out.”

“Run away. Cut my hair. Change my name.”

His arms tightened around her. “Please, no. Anything but cut your hair.”

She tried to push him away but he just pulled her closer.

“You’re ridiculous,” she said. “Absurd. Outrageous.”

“Well, I love you. Adore you. Worship you.”

She wrapped her arms around his neck, pressed her face into his skin. She inhaled his scent, a mix of Christmas cookies and his cologne, and decided she would never tire of his smell, his kiss, his silly English teacher game.

“I love you too,” she said. “Forever. Infinitely. Endlessly.”

He smiled. “How about always?”

“Yes,” she said. “That too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading and commenting and leaving kudos! I really appreciate it! This story was so much fun to write. Big thanks to my sister Julie (raisinbrandy on tumblr) for coming up with Rye’s secret back in December. This fic wouldn’t have been possible without her. (Happy now? I acknowledged your existence.)


End file.
